Prejudice and Pride
by austenauthoress
Summary: How would things have been different if Elizabeth was rather Edward Bennet, heir to Longbourn, and Darcy was instead Frances "Anne" Darcy, the heiress of Pemberley? After traveling to Hertfordshire to help Bingley establish good relations with his tenants, Frances is surprised to find her interest suddenly drifting to a man of little consequence.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:** _Hi all! This is my first P &P fanfiction. The idea for this had been swimming around in my head for so long that I just had to sit down and write it._

 ** _Here's some basic info to know before you start:_**

 _ **1.** Elizabeth and Darcy are the only characters whose genders have been reversed and everyone else is the same. The point of this work is to show the difference that one minor change can make to the story at large. By changing the gender of these two characters the plot changes as well as situations, yet the characters are much as they ever were in personality and spirit._

 _ **2.** Some ages have been changed. Jane is now 25 while Edward (Elizabeth) is 23. Frances "Anne" Darcy (Fitzwilliam Darcy) is 21 and has been in possession of her inheritance since the age of 18. All other ages have remained the same._

 _ **3.** I plan on writing long chapters. At this point, I'm looking at this to extend to about 20-25 depending on where it all takes me and the response I get from readers. That being said, I may write more or less._

 _ **4.** At first I had planned on making this an exact retelling of P &P, but I began to ask myself: Where's the fun in that? While the plot will be incredibly similar to the one of Austen's novel, we will have moments where we diverge from canon. Why? Well because that's what makes this study so interesting! Whether you believe it or not, by changing Elizabeth and Darcy's genders, A LOT changes in the main storyline and I'm so excited to explore that. Don't be surprised if there is a little more romance as well. I'm a sucker for romance._

 _ **5.** I am no Austen and I am not trying to be like her. While I will try to emulate the language and tone of the era, my writing style is my own._

 _I hope you enjoy!_

 _(Disclaimer: I do not own Pride and Prejudice or its characters.)_

 _austenauthoress_

* * *

 **Chapter 1**

It is a truth universally acknowledged that a woman in possession of a large dowry must be in want of a husband.

It does not matter how old said girl is, because every girl imagines herself being swept off her feet by a valiant prince charming. No one ever suspects that the man on the white steed, could actually be the villain himself. No one ever wants to anyways.

Frances Darcy was no stranger to this lesson, but unfortunately her sister had been. Now they were both paying the price.

The carriage creaked as it continued down the lane, the passengers trying desperately to think of what to say. What could one say? What does one say to a young girl who feels as though her world is falling apart?

"Dearest Georgie," The elder sister finally spoke, her voice cracking slightly with the emotion she was feeling. "We will recover from this."

Darcy could not see the girl's face. Georgiana was staring aimlessly out of the carriage into the darkness beyond. One could hear the faint sound of the waves crashing along the shore - but other than that, it was silent.

"I do not blame you for any of this," Darcy tried desperately to convey the truth behind her statement, reaching a hand out to cover the one that lay on her sister's lap. "This is not your fault. If anything, it is mine. I should not have sent you to Ramsgate in the first place with a woman who I did not investigate properly. None of this would have ever happened had I been a better sister to you. It is I who have failed you."

This statement captured Georgiana's attention. Her free hand, which had been nervously playing with the cross that hung from her neck, came up to cover that of her sister's.

"Oh no, please do not ever think –" The girl choked on her emotions, her stoic face suddenly crumbling. She had not had a chance to cry yet, but the tears began to gather. "I cannot have you taking responsibility for this. You trusted me and I have failed you, greatly. I am fully ashamed of myself and my behavior. I trust others much too easily and it has been my downfall."

Frances did not know what to do as her sister broke down opposite her. Emotions had never been her forte. It was easier four years before when her sister had been a small girl of one and ten who could still be cradled in one's arms and comforted after the death of her father, but this was different. Grief was something she had been familiar with after losing both her mother and father, but she had no concept of heartache.

Switching seats, Darcy wrapped her arms tightly around her sister. Georgiana's sobs, for they were no longer just tears, tore through her heart.

"This will not do," She murmured, pulling back slightly to look at the girl's face. Untying the bonnet that was knotted a bit too tightly beneath her sister's chin for travel, she smoothed the blonde curls that fell from beneath, so unlike the dark brown of her own. "I cannot have you feeling guilty over something that is simply your nature. Were you not so trusting, you would not be my Georgiana. I would not change a thing about you. It is others I would change – to make them better so that they could deserve the trust you give them so unreservedly."

Georgiana buried herself in the haven of her sister's arms, her tears still falling steadily down her cheeks. Her color was pale and Darcy was seriously beginning to fear for her health. It was obvious that her anxiety over the near-elopement had taken a toll on her appetite as she felt much thinner than her sister remembered. Not for the first time that night, Darcy sent up a silent prayer of gratitude.

"If you had not arrived today, I don't know what I would have done," The heartbroken girl's voice was so quiet that Darcy had to strain to hear it. "I would have been half way to Gretna Green by now, I suppose."

"No," Frances spoke with conviction. "You would not have gone through with it. Your character and your faith would not have allowed you to."

While she truly believed her statement, there was still doubt weighing heavily upon her. Darcy knew that most girls tended to lead with their hearts rather than their heads. There had been plenty of girls tricked into elopements by men who were up to no good. Not just poorly, country girls either – but high society ladies of great fortune. Should she have gone through with it, Georgiana would not have been the first.

' _But she did not,'_ Darcy reminded herself once again as she held her sister tighter.

She knew Georgiana was young enough yet to weather the effects of the heartbreak she had suffered, but Frances Darcy seriously wondered if _she_ ever could.

* * *

"Edward Bennet, you delight in vexing me! I will not have you catching a cold in this autumn chill!"

The young man in question had to chuckle at his mother's nervous prattle. Mrs. Bennet was the only woman in all of Hertfordshire that considered the tepid air of the harvest months as dangerous to one's constitution.

"Mama, you act as though I will drop dead the moment any ailment comes upon me," The young Mr. Bennet replied good naturedly, used to the exclamations that were usually raised after the completion of his morning walk. "I can fully assure you, madam, that I am of a sturdier stock than that. I happen to have four beautiful sisters that are all in excellent health and a lovely mama who I believe will continue to censure me well into her elder years."

With a roll of her eyes, Mrs. Bennet ignored her son's comments and turned from the room in a whirl. "Hill! Hill!" The mistress of Longbourn called for the loyal housekeeper. In a move almost identical to the woman who had just exited the room, Edward had to roll his eyes as well. Just as he was doing this, a frazzled Mrs. Hill appeared to take his hat.

"My boy," He heard a voice call out from the library at the end of the hall. "Pray, come and tell me what offense you have committed against your dear mama."

Smiling wryly, Edward handed over his hat before stepping further into the house. Upon entering his father's study, he was met with a familiar sight. There was Mr. Bennet, sitting in his desk chair with a book laid out in front of him.

"I hope that's the book on crop rotation I picked up for you the last time I visited the Gardiners," The young man half-joked, causing the older one to chortle. It was no secret that Thomas Bennet was not necessarily the most devoted of landowners, much to the boy's chagrin. But despite even that, he could not help but look fondly on the man who had raised him and passed along his love for laughter and folly.

"It is not. I was in the mood for Wordsworth today and have decided I shall begin reading tomorrow about the crops. It is not as if they are going anywhere," Mr. Bennet gestured towards the chair in front of his desk. "Sit and tell me what you did to cause your mama such a fuss."

Edward took a seat in the familiar chair, casting an amused glance in his father's direction. "I have done nothing more than take a walk before breaking my fast. Just as I do every morning."

"Shocking that you seem to receive the same reaction every morning, as well," Mr. Bennet's dark eyes sparkled with a wit he seemed to share with his son.

"Indeed," The young man agreed, leaning back in his chair. "But I guess when you are the heir, without anyone to spare, you must take into account an autumn chill. For you know how many young men have died from partaking in morning exercise," Sarcasm was evident in his tone, yet the reality of the situation was a dark one to broach.

While to some Mrs. Bennet's fears seemed to be bordering on the ridiculous, there was some veracity behind them. Edward, who was the sole heir birthed to the Bennets, was the only one who could inherit the estate in the event of his father's death. If he were not alive and well, the land would go to some distant cousin who would surely cast out his mother and any unmarried sisters of his into the hedgerows. Hence, Mrs. Bennet's worry over his health and well being.

It was not as if Longbourn was a very consequential piece of land either, but Edward was happy to be inheriting it anyways. While the tenant farmers did all that they could to bring in a large profit, the truth was that there wasn't very many of them to begin with. That, paired with Mr. Bennet's only mediocre management, hampered the land from increasing in worth. But it wasn't the worth that Edward cared about in the first place.

This land was his home. Hertfordshire was all he had known beyond his years in school and at Oxford. He was a gentleman, and by principle, he was supposed to cultivate the land to its full potential. If he was to take care of four sisters, who his mama had already claimed would all become spinsters due to his father's lack of verve in society, as well as his mother, then he would have to be bringing in a decent profit in order to provide for them in the best way possible. Especially, if his father expired early and Edward was forced to pull together several dowries for his sisters all at once.

"Son, I shall not drop dead at any moment either," Mr. Bennet voiced, breaking Edward from his own conjecture. There was amusement evident in his father's tone, proof that he had known which way his son's thoughts had been tending. "I will read about crop rotation, I promise you. I shall begin the moment I find the peace to start it."

"Mr. Bennet! Mr. Bennet!"

"It does not seem like I will be starting today," The master of the house commented dryly as his wife invaded the library with a trail of giggling girls behind her. Edward made eye contact with his serene, elder sister Jane, who gave him a small smile and a tilt of her head as their mother tittered on.

"You will never believe what Mrs. Long has just heard from the butcher!"

"For some reason, I am not inclined to believe it has anything to do with meat."

"Oh, Mr. Bennet," Mrs. Bennet sighed, her voice rising an octave in exasperation. "You have no compassion for my poor nerves!"

"My dear, you mistake me," Mr. Bennet smiled, patting his wife's hand which lay on his shoulder. "I have every respect for your nerves. They have been my old friends these five and twenty years."

"Mr. Bennet, I still have not yet told you what Mrs. Long heard."

"Oh, I nearly forgot! From the butcher if I am not mistaken. Well, please proceed, Mrs. Bennet. We are all waiting with baited breath."

The matron huffed but did not allow his sarcasm to deter her. "Netherfield Park is let at last!"

"Now what does that have to do with any of us? I have no interest in the property, in fact, I have always been more partial towards Purvis Lodge, myself," Mr. Bennet crossed his arms over his chest and waited for the default answer his wife was sure to give.

"You and your son seem to like to try my nerves, but they are in no state this morning to be toyed with," The two men in question did not bother arguing that her nerves were always in the state they were in presently. "You must know that the man who has let the place is one who is single and of £5,000 a year."

"I still do not understand of what consequence this is to us."

"Mr. Bennet!" Mrs. Bennet's voice rose an octave, causing both father and son to cringe at such a shrill sound. "He must marry one of our girls, of course!"

"Now, why would he feel obligated to do such a thing?" Mr. Bennet stood from his chair to walk over to the group of ladies still standing in his doorway. "It's not as if you will be thrown out into the hedgerows. Edward will inherit once I die and you will be allowed to live here for as long as you please."

"But, Papa," Lydia, who was the youngest of the bunch, said indignantly, pulling a face that was much like her mother's. "We do not wish to become spinsters like Charlotte Lucas."

"Miss Lucas is not a spinster, Lydia," Edward stood from his chair and turned towards his sister, his displeasure evident in his expression and tone. "You should not say such things in the company of others."

"La! If you say it is not so, then where are her suitors? Better yet, why do you not do your duty and offer for her yourself?

"Because I do not love her, Lydia," Edward stated defensively, his younger sister striking a nerve. "I would not do her the injustice."

"The thought of Charlotte Lucas ever becoming the mistress of Longbourn has my nerves all a flutter. Do not even tease about such a thing," Mrs. Bennet fanned herself, temporarily distracted from her original topic of choice. "She and her mother would have me tossed from this house the moment your father was deceased."

"But you and Lady Lucas are great friends, Mama," Kitty, the second to youngest sister, spoke up. "I'm sure she would never do such a thing. Besides, Edward would not let her."

"Since I am not inclined to marry Miss Lucas, maybe we should leave such worries for more appropriate matters," The young Mr. Bennet effectively silenced the girls on the subject, quite tired of such foolish conjecture.

"What we do need to worry about is Mr. Bingley," Mrs. Bennet sighed his name with great admiration and looked at her husband, eyebrows raised in expectation. "He is to arrive any time now and you must be among the first to call upon him."

"Why we should do such a thing, I do not know. It is not as if Edward or I desire to marry him and I am in no great want of friends."

"But you must call on him or the Lucases will get to him first."

"You and your daughters seem to be in consensuses that the Lucas girls are plain and of little consequence," There was a twinkle in Mr. Bennet's eye as he said the last part. "What threat do they pose for my girls?"

"Oh Mr. Bennet!"

"Papa!"

"Girls, please allow me to continue with my work," The man sat back at his desk and pulled out a book from the side drawer on his left. "I have very important crop rotation techniques to learn about and I must be left to read in peace.

Edward ushered out his frowning mama, along with his four sisters. All the way out, his mother wailed in despair.

"To have such a father, girls! He does not care of what happens to you or I in the future!"

As Edward turned back towards the study, he noted that his father had already traded the crop rotation manual for the words of Wordsworth once again.

Sighing heavily, he allowed the door to close behind him on his way out.

* * *

Three miles away, the man who had caused such a stir at Longbourn, dismounted his horse and gazed up at his newly acquired property.

"It's beautiful, is it not?" He asked excitedly, with a grin on his face as his sister and friend descended from their carriage with the help of a footman.

Netherfield Park was an impressive property for a man who had been born into trade. Charles Bingley at five and twenty had taken the first steps towards becoming a part of the landed gentry. With such friendly manners and a bright countenance to go with it, one could almost forget he didn't quite belong in the society he roamed in – but alas, it could not be forgotten for long.

"Charles," His sister drawled, pulling her traveling cloak tighter as if protecting herself from the country air. "It is a sight indeed, but nothing compared to Pemberley. Would you not agree, dear Anne?"

Still in a mood from being dragged into Hertfordshire, Frances Darcy frowned up at the manor. While it was certainly nothing compared to Pemberley, it was pretty enough. However, she could not say the same for the country surrounding it.

"I believe I am too biased of a party to speak on the matter," The lady admitted, not bothering to mask the disapproval in her tone. "However, the people of Hertfordshire must be savages of the worst kind to come from such land and yet have so little to show for it. Did you see all those poor tenant farms?"

"Yes, I did, Darcy," Bingley's tone did not lose any of it's cheer, even in the face of his friend's evident distaste. "But that is why you are here. I have never met a man or woman who can run the land like you do. Pemberley is a credit to such a statement."

The girl's cheeks blazed pink at the compliment, though not in the manner of your typical English rose. While Frances Darcy was all things a lady ought to be, with a list of accomplishments to fully back such a claim, she did not allow herself to give over to such simpering female behaviors. As the heiress of an extensive piece of land, bestowed upon her at the tender age of eight and ten, she saw herself above the usual base behaviors of her sex. No, her cheeks turned pink from such unwanted attention from both Caroline Bingley and the Hursts who had joined them in time to hear Bingley's assertion.

"You are too kind in your praise, Bingley," Darcy spoke, using the common practice men typically took part in by addressing him by his last name. In an informal party such as their's, this wasn't so unusual. In fact, it gave Caroline some odd sort of pleasure for she believed it spoke of an intimacy that did not truly exist between the two. "I will do whatever I can to aid you in your endeavor. My steward can also be reached easily should either of us fail to come up with a solution."

"Excellent!" The young master bounded up the steps, greeting the assembled staff who stood at the top to greet them. The Hursts followed Bingley's action while Caroline and Frances trailed behind.

"I am so happy you agreed to come with us, Anne," Caroline forced her arm through her more stoic companion's, linking their elbows as if they were great friends. "Charles has been in raptures recently over your presence."

Darcy knew that Caroline was hoping for a future connection between she and her brother, but unfortunately for her, it was something that neither she nor Bingley desired. No matter how many times they seemed to remind her of this though, she continued her pursuit. At this point, there was no point in even commenting on it.

"I did not wish to leave Georgiana behind, but Bingley's plea was made in such a way that it could not be helped," Darcy commented dryly, remembering the insistent begging she'd had to suffer before reluctantly agreeing. Georgiana had claimed she was not yet ready to be amongst any party besides her own family and had thrown herself into her studies after her near elopement. Not knowing what to do or say, Darcy had let her.

"Dear Georgie!" Caroline cried out, claiming yet another intimacy that was not her own by addressing Frances' sister in such a way. "I must say I miss her presence. Such a long list of accomplishments she has at only fifteen and to not even be out yet! It is a credit to your influence."

Darcy did not say a word, her mind drifting to three months before when she had been forced to question whether her guidance had been adequate enough in relation to her sister. Shaking her head, she resolved that she would no longer dwell on situations already passed.

"Indeed."


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N:** _Hello, everyone! Thank you for all the favorites and follows as well as the reviews. Something has been brought to my attention (though the reviewer deleted his/her comments right after they posted them) that I would like to give an explanation for. I thought I had done so in the first chapter, but when I looked back, I realized it was not mentioned in my note._

 _ **On Frances sometimes being referred to as Darcy** – I KNOW it's against propriety. In fact, that's the point of it. I don't want to give away what's to come in the future, but this impropriety is actually a big part of Miss Darcy's character. I know it's frustrating. Trust me, every time an author insists on having Elizabeth refer to Darcy as William, I want to throw my hands up in despair. However, I promise that there is a reason behind calling Frances Darcy "Darcy". Remember, that some time in the future, Edward is inevitably going to give Darcy a sit down and a large part of his argument will be showing the hypocriticalness (is that even a word?) on Frances' part by comparing this impropriety to the ones she accused his family of. So please, just try to roll with it. Also keep in mind, Darcy will do a lot of things that are deemed "improper" simply due to the responsibilities she harbors. She may be a lady, but her duties are not what a lady would usually take on. Just like Mr. Bennet raised Elizabeth like the son he never had, old Mr. Darcy did the same._

 _That being said, I love to hear from you guys! Keep the reviews coming and if you have any questions, please do not hesitate to ask! The Meryton Assembly is up next and I can't wait to get to share it with you guys._

 _austenauthoress_

* * *

 **Chapter 2**

Despite all of the objections raised by both father and son – a few days later, Thomas and Edward Bennet found themselves calling on the mysterious Mr. Bingley. To their great surprise though, he was not mysterious at all. In fact, he was downright cheerful and amiable.

"I liked him prodigiously," Mr. Bennet recalled as the carriage rocked nosily, the two of them already heading back to Longbourn after an hour of good conversation at Netherfield. "He could possibly become a little trying with such an obliging nature, but I do not see any glaring flaws in his character."

"To be sure," Edward agreed, turning his gaze from the passing scenery to his father. "The others of his party I will reserve my judgement on."

What Mrs. Bennet had forgotten to tell her son and husband about Mr. Bingley was that he brought a considerable number of people along with him to the country. The number varied depending upon who you caught the gossip from, but the Bennets had just received confirmation that there were another four in his party.

Mr. Hurst had greeted them with Mr. Bingley, but hadn't made much of a lasting impression. They had intruded upon the males of the house playing a game of billiards as the ladies were out riding. While Mr. Bingley talked enthusiastically about Hertfordshire and his great admiration for the land he was leasing, Mr. Hurst seemed to be a bit more interested with the drink in his hand.

"Men like him are everywhere in society," Mr. Bennet commented when asked about Mr. Hurst. "It's a pity, for characters like his do not provide much amusement beyond that of their drunken rants. Unfortunately for us though, Mr. Hurst does not seem likely to put his drink down long enough to get two words out anyway."

Edward had to agree with the statement. During his Oxford years, it had been a rude awakening to witness the less than exemplary behavior of his fellow classmates. All these men, who proclaimed to be gentlemen, so easily succumbed to both their drink and carnal desires. Luckily, Edward had always kept himself in check – coming from a country estate, with relatively no experience in the _ton,_ it was all that he knew how to do. The gentlemen of Hertfordshire were of a higher standing, proving that no amount of money could ever buy good manners or good breeding.

"I'm curious to see what the ladies of his party will be like after meeting such different gentlemen," Edward remarked, throwing his father a half smile. "The assembly will be the perfect place to observe such characters, as ladies usually prove to be at their best while in society."

"Do not speak of the assembly," The elder man rubbed his face tiredly, already dreading the event. "I can hear your mama screeching for Mary to bring her smelling salts."

Edward chuckled, imagining his mother in a flutter at the news that Mr. Bingley would be attending the dance.

* * *

"I am so sorry you girls are forced to suffer with such a father and brother," Mrs. Bennet was lamenting as the accused party walked through the entryway. "For you should never make good matches with their resistance to mix with a more varied society."

"Now, my dear – from whence do these accusations originate from?" Mr. Bennet sat in his customary chair while Edward stood in the doorway. The men shared a quick, private smile for they had not told the women of Longbourn what errand had taken them into town that day.

"From the fact that you will not call upon Mr. Bingley!"

"Now, who ever said I would not call upon our new neighbor?"

Mrs. Bennet huffed. "You did, Mr. Bennet."

Mr. Bennet glanced around the room at his daughters who all, besides Jane and Mary, nodded their heads in agreement with their mother.

"It would seem the silliest occupants of this home are positive that I denied to ever visit Mr. Bingley," The man gestured towards Edward and Jane who stood close together. "Yet the two with all the sense seem to deny ever hearing such conjecture."

"Papa," Jane censured him gently, her quiet nature a natural deflector of conflict. "It matters not what you said. However, you and Edward left this morning on an unnamed errand. Am I correct in assuming you have been to Netherfield?"

"You are, my dear girl."

Many things happened at once. Suddenly Mrs. Bennet, Kitty, and Lydia, who had all been frowning at their father's petulance, jumped from their seats in delight.

"Of what did you speak?"

"Is he handsome?"

"Will he be attending the assembly?"

"Is he amiable, father?"

Mary decided that now would be a good time to sermonize, "It is in a lady's best interest to resist judgement and wait until she meets someone for herself before forming an opinion."

"Oh Mary, stop being such a bore!" Lydia insisted, temporarily distracted from her assault of their father.

"Mr. Bennet!" Mrs. Bennet exclaimed over the voices of her girls, who were now in the midst of a tiff. "You are too good to us!"

"I am in agreement with you there, my dear."

Jane and Edward exited the drawing room as the women of the household continued to discuss the new neighbor in differing volumes.

"Well," Edward tilted his head towards his elder sister, a smirk evident on his features. "Are you not curious at all of what Mr. Bingley was like?"

Jane laughed softly at her brother's teasing. "I am afraid that I am just like every other lady in this house when it comes to my curiosity. But I have no doubt, my dear brother, that you will share with me the particulars of your visit."

"Such confidence," Edward opened the door that led out to the garden, one of the only places they were sure to be able to converse. "I am of half a mind not to tell you in fear of becoming too predictable."

Jane simply smiled at his comment, accepting the arm he offered her as they strolled in the late afternoon sun.

"I am sure he was not so bad," The gently bred lady commented as they turned a corner in the path. "For I know that you would have not come home in such high spirits if you knew our neighbor was a blackguard. But I shall wait for when you are ready to share what opinion you have formed in regards to him."

Edward smiled, shaking his head in disbelief. No one would ever guess that this patient young woman, who inquired after the master of Netherfield so calmly, could ever be of any relation to the four silly women who remained inside.

Edward held Jane in high regard. Though she was two years his senior, and of the female sex, they had always been the closest of siblings. It was hard not to cherish Jane. She was kind to everyone, even towards those who did not deserve her kindness, and always seemed to give people the benefit of the doubt.

If that were not enough, her countenance matched that of an angel. She was light, a trait she had picked up from their Gardiner relations, with blonde hair and blue eyes – a complete contrast to the rest of the Bennet's who were all dark like their father.

Edward could not help but feel very protective of her when it came to the men that admired her. With such beauty, who could resist? But it was her openness and kindness that worried him most.

Not too long ago, when his sister had been but five and ten, a man had expressed his interest in her through the words of poetry. She accepted his attentions graciously and fancied herself in love with him, but it all came to naught. Edward could still remember her tears as she realized that the man she had come to care for did not truly feel the way his verse had conveyed. Ever since then, the young Mr. Bennet had been hard on any man who showed even a slight inclination towards his sister.

Mr. Bingley had been amiable enough though, and of the kind of personality Jane would appreciate. Still, Edward was hesitant to raise her hopes.

"He was kind," The young man finally shared, watching as Jane's eyes lit up in expectation. "His coloring is similar to your's. The two of you would do nicely together."

The lady smiled at such a thought, her gaze dropping to the path they walked along.

He certainly couldn't see the young man courting any of the other available females in the Bennet household. While Mary posed the possibility of maybe one day seeing sense, she unfortunately did not respond well to social cues and tended to say the wrong things at the wrong time. Kitty really had not developed any personality for her self, besides the one she seemed to mirror from Lydia, and Edward's younger sister would certainly hold no appeal for a man like Mr. Bingley with her loud shrieks and immature tendencies. Yes, Jane would be the only one with any real chance of catching the young man's eye.

"However," Edward warned, his tone teasing yet with some hardness behind it. "Those are not the only things that are important in a relationship."

"Of course," Jane quickly agreed. "Just look at mama and papa."

Edward grimaced at the thought. While he was inclined to believe that his parents had started out fancying each other, the years had not been kind to them. As time passed, his mother had only become sillier, while his father tended to border on neglect of both his land and family. No, theirs was not a relationship anyone would want to imitate.

"You must do yourself a favor, Jane," Edward spoke, sobered by the turn the conversation had taken. "And make sure you never accept a man solely for his money or inheritance. Promise me you will at least try to find a partner whom you can love and esteem."

The elder sister nodded. "Of course, Eddie. You know I would never put myself in such a position. I am far too romantic to fall victim to such an enticement."

"You certainly deserve the best," Edward smiled, giving his sister's hand an affectionate squeeze. "Do not be afraid to expect it."

* * *

"Really, Charles," Caroline lamented for possibly the tenth time since she had returned from her ride. "Why do you insist upon mixing with the families of this county? You are simply leasing the property, not buying it. You have no responsibility to this society."

"Caroline, you surprise me," Bingley commented from his spot by the window. He had been staring out at the lawn when they had returned to the stables, fully anticipating some kind of altercation over the acceptance of the invitation. He was prepared for anything she threw at him though. "These people have yet to prove themselves to be anything but polite and obliging. Mr. Bennet and his son were both perfectly amiable and knowledgeable of all that we discussed. If everyone is as welcoming as they are, then I am happy to attend an assembly with such upstanding people."

"These upstanding 'gentlemen' are the same one's who have been neglectful of their lands," Miss Darcy spoke for the first time since their arrival, the idea of performing in society fueling her argument. "You saw the damage they have done, Bingley. When we rode out to the tenant farms, one did not even have to cross the border to see the poor techniques that they had employed. They speak of a neglectful master."

"I will defer my judgement until a later date," Bingley stated firmly, his mind already made up. "However, I will not go back on my word. I will be attending the dance whether or not my party decides to join me."

All in the room, including the Hursts, knew to do such would be a huge slight on their part if they choose not to appear at the assembly.

Louisa Hurst, eyeing her husband who was practically comatose on the settee from two much drink, reluctantly agreed to join her brother.

"My husband and I will attend, Charles. Even though, I have not been impressed by what I have seen of Meryton society."

On the ladies' frequent rides, they had come upon many a member of the local county. While no introductions were made, it was hard not to hear the whispered exclamations of those who took note of the expense of their dress and elegance of their seats.

Knowing this, Caroline once more tried to convince Bingley to desists. "These people will simply want to acquaint themselves with your wealth, Charles. Country mothers will stop at nothing to secure a rich match for their daughters."

"That's an unfair judgement," Bingley warned, though his countenance still looked as unfazed and bright as ever, even with a frown. "I will give everyone the benefit of the doubt until I have met them for myself. I insist you do the same."

Caroline rolled her eyes, crossing her arms indignantly.

Frances tried to reason with the man.

"Bingley," She started, a certain finality in her tone before she had even begun her argument. "You must be careful in a society such as this. To raise expectations by accidently paying a certain Miss too much attention is a terrible faux pas for someone who has just started his quest of becoming a gentleman."

Charles shifted nervously, the statement noted and processed. It was true he still had many steps to take to becoming a gentleman and any sort of scandal would be incredibly detrimental to his image. But the politeness of his character won out over his desire to raise his standing in the _ton_.

"I will be careful, Darcy," Bingley promised, his voice a little less steady than before. "But I will not do these people such a discourtesy. I have accepted their invitation and that is that."

While Frances was halfway impressed with the backbone Bingley was exhibiting at the moment, she resented the fact that he had to pick now to show it.

"As your guest, I will follow your example."

Seeing it was pointless to argue now that Darcy had already relented, Caroline reluctantly accepted her fate as well. After dinner arrangements were discussed, the ladies excused themselves to change from their riding habits and bathe after an afternoon spent in the country.

"Sarah," Frances called out as she stepped into her dressing room, pulling off her hat and allowing her curls to fall around her shoulders. "I would like a bath prepared."

Sarah, who had been made aware of her mistress' arrival the moment she'd stepped on to the lawn, nodded and curtsied to get on with her task.

Once the water had been prepared, Frances allowed the maid to assist her with the removal of her clothes and pin up her hair.

"Sarah, it seems that I shall be attending a dance in the near future," Her jacket was removed and folded over the maid's arm. "I will expect everything to be in order."

Used to the clipped tone her mistress usually spoke in, Sarah bobbed her head and continued with her task. "Yes, mum."

Once her habit was removed along with her undergarments, the young heiress was finally able to slip into her bath. The warm water instantly eased her tense muscles and the steam cleared her senses.

It was no secret that society exhausted Darcy. While she had attended the best schools and was incredibly knowledgeable in many subjects, she still struggled with conversing easily with those she did not know. Many would say she was shy, but there was more to it than that.

As had been exhibited between her and Bingley, she seemed to relate easier to men. Not because she really had all that in common with them, but because she had similar responsibilities and cares as they did. She could play the pianoforte and violin as gracefully as any woman, but her real passion was in the land. Pemberley was her heart and soul and it showed in her conversations. Simpering ladies did not spend their time sitting around and discussing tenant issues, but instead gossiped about those who were not in attendance at any given event. The sad thing was, those same ladies who talked behind your back, would call on you the very next day pretending as though they were still your friend.

In light of this, it was common knowledge that Frances Darcy abhorred disguise of any sort.

That was another reason she preferred the company of Bingley and even Hurst to that of Caroline and Louisa. Though she had become acquainted with Charles Bingley through his sisters the season she was presented, she had never claimed an intimacy with either of them. They kept her around in hopes that Bingley would eventually marry her and that her name would provide them with a boost into higher circles.

Groaning, Frances slid further into the water. _Marriage._

She supposed one day she would eventually have to marry. If she did not, then the expectation of producing an heir would lay to rest on poor Georgiana's shoulders, and she could not put that kind of pressure on her younger sister. Not after everything that had happened already.

Bingley as a husband was absolutely out of the question. While Frances looked up to him as a brother, due to his unrelenting support after the death of her father and the early stages of dealing with her inheritance, she could not imagine building a life with him. He was far too happy all the time and tended to be indecisive in situations that called for a firm resolve. If she were to marry someone, she would need to find a man who could respect her like Bingley, but be more steady to his purpose. She would have to find someone who didn't mind her being their equal and helping them run the estate. They would have to know that Pemberley was _her's_ and that no marriage contract would ever change that.

"If you please, mum," Sarah spoke, coming back through the servant door on the other side of the room. "I have just pressed your dress for dinner. Would you like me to wash your hair before you get changed?"

Distracted from her thoughts, Frances sat up in the tub and pet her still dry hair that was piled atop her head.

"No," She finally answered, gesturing towards the robe that lay on the chair by the fire. "I am afraid I have already spent much too long in the water. They will be expecting me for dinner at any moment."

All thoughts of marriage abandoned, she exited the tub and hurriedly got dressed.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N:** _Alright, here's the Meryton Assembly! I am so excited to get this chapter up and published. Since our lovely couple finally meet in this chapter, I will be trying to space out my updates a bit more to give people time to read the first few chapters and catch up. This story is just getting started and I'm so excited for the journey we have ahead._

 _At this point, I see I have 23 people already following this story and I would love to hear from all of you! This story is still in the process of being written. In fact, I am only about a chapter to two chapters ahead of my updates. So if you have any questions or ideas, feel free to share! The first thing I do when I wake up in the morning is check my email to see if I have any new reviews and it truly makes my day when I do._

 _Happy reading!_

 _austenauthoress_

* * *

 **Chapter 3**

Meryton assemblies were always a source of great joy for those who lived in the county. The young people were allowed to dance and flirt under the watchful eyes of their parents, while the old matrons were given the opportunity to gossip freely and remark on what matches were sure to be made. The men looked upon these events with a little less excitement than their wives, but partook in them none the less for the promise of game and drink.

While you would not know from the way Mrs. Bennet spoke of her daughters, it was no secret that the Bennet girls were amongst some of the most eligible in the country society. While they had little wealth to recommend them, they were all somewhat prettier than their peers and evoked quite a bit of envy in them as well.

While the younger sisters were pretty enough, it was Jane who was truly the beauty of the Bennet bunch. Though nearing what one would deem her "spinster years," she would have no trouble securing a match once she learned how to express her sentiments a bit more effectively.

She had worn a gown of pale pink to the dance, that complemented the paleness of her skin and the rose of her cheeks. Her curls were styled atop her head with small decorative flowers scattered in the tendrils. She looked to be a literal angel.

But she wasn't the only Bennet garnering attention.

While Edward was not near as handsome as his sister, his charm and vivacity easily recommended him to the eligible ladies of the town. While his hair was dark and his eyes as well, his gift for conversation and the knowledge of his eventual inheritance had mother's pushing their daughters in his direction at every turn.

"Edward," Sir William Lucas greeted him as the Bennet's entered the assembly room, slapping the boy hard on the back in a show of his usual enthusiasm. "It has been far too long."

The young man did not waste his breath remarking to Sir William that it had only been nigh over a fortnight since he had last spoken to him.

"Indeed, sir."

"Your father tells me that you have lately been to London to pick up some new material on farming from your Gardiner relations," Sir William bumped him with his elbow, raising his brows in question. "Any advice you'd be willing to share?"

"I am afraid that any advice I give would seem a bit too industrial for this region," Edward admitted. "It seems that crops are requiring far more attention than mere tenants can give. I fear there may come a time when country gentry of little consequence will not be able to keep up with their richer counterparts."

"Well, that is a misfortune indeed," Sir William remarked, his usual cheer mellowed. "If you learn anything else, please do not hesitate to share it with me. Unfortunately, John isn't nearly as interested in the land as you are, so I am not able to use him as a fully viable resource."

"You may count upon me, sir."

Soon Sir William was distracted by another family's entrance, leaving Edward standing off to the side where he was free to observe. The Lucas family wasn't the only gentry of the county that were trying desperately to keep up with the times when it came to their lands. Edward, being one of the only sons to have gone off to get a formal education, was usually approached by many who were concerned for their tenants and their futures. He only wished his father could be so passionate as these others, rather than dedicating all his time to his literary pursuits.

"Hello, Mr. Bennet," Charlotte Lucas approached, a gentle smile resting on her features. "It would seem my father has already had a chance to corner you this evening."

While his sisters tended to be harsh upon poor Charlotte, Edward admired her greatly for her serenity and easy manners. She was much like Jane, although not near as beautiful. She was now entering what was considered formal spinsterhood, though she never allowed such comments to phase her. Edward figured that if she had been born with the looks his elder sister had, she would have been considered a great catch by any man.

"Hello, Miss Lucas," Edward greeted her with fake formality, causing her to chuckle. "Yes, I fear your father has already begged me to ask his eldest daughter for her hand in the first set."

Charlotte gave him a rueful smile. "That is an honest shame for I have already been asked to dance the first with someone else."

Edward's brows rose in curiosity, all joking aside. "Truly?"

"As it turns out, my family ran into the Netherfield party earlier this morning and Mr. Bingley has offered to dance the first set with me."

"Oh," Edward said, at a loss for words _. 'Well, mama is certainly not going to like that.'_

Before he could congratulate her on her good fortune, the room, which had been in nosy disarray just a moment before, quieted. Everyone seemed to be staring at the party that had just entered through the door.

Edward easily spotted the two gentlemen of the Netherfield party that he had been acquainted with before. Mr. Bingley was finely dressed, his wealth obvious from the new waistcoat he sported and pristine gloves he wore. He was also surprised to find that Mr. Hurst, who had been so disinterested in society all those days before, had cleaned up his appearance as well.

But, more so than the gentlemen, it was the ladies that caught his attention.

The woman on Mr. Hurst's arm could be none other than the older sister Mr. Bingley had mentioned when telling he and his father of the people in his party. Her coloring was similar to his, though her countenance was vastly different from her jovial brother's. Already, there was a distinct look of disapproval present on her features.

Her sister had a look on her face that was much similar to her older sister's. While the brother and sister previously observed shared some common features in the way of coloring, Mr. Bingley's other sister could not be any more different than her siblings. She had dark, curly hair that lay atop her head, covered by a turban with a large plume sticking out of the back of it. She had a harsh brow that made her disdain seem even more obvious than her sister's.

The last lady of the party did not look to be related to any of them. She had dark features, with hair the color of deep mahogany and skin that almost looked to be tanned in the light of the chandelier. Her clothes were much finer than those of her companions, the rich, blue fabric an obvious sign of her wealth and position. While her expression was a harder one to read compared to her companions, it was obvious that she too was put out by having to participate in their society.

Charlotte followed his gaze and immediately lowered her voice. "I know you have already been introduced to the men of the party, but I just this morning met the ladies myself. The one who came in on Mr. Hurst's arm is Mrs. Hurst with her younger sister, Miss Bingley, standing next to her. The lady on the far right is Miss Darcy of Pemberley and Derbyshire," Charlotte clarified lowly as the group was greeted by Sir William Lucas himself. The room slowly returned to its usual level of noise, though everyone's eyes remained on the Netherfield party.

"Is she of such great consequence?" Edward asked, his gaze still locked on the lady who seemed to be hardening under Sir. William's extensive greeting.

"Oh yes," Charlotte remarked. "She's an heiress in complete possession of her lands. Pemberley alone provides her with upwards of £10,000 a year. She has an incredible inheritance as well, though my mother still has not been able to find out of how much exactly."

"Well, between your mother and mine, I guarantee we shall know all of Miss Darcy's secrets by the end of the night," Edward joked, finally turning his gaze back to Charlotte's. "It's unfortunate that she has such a sour look upon her countenance with so much at her disposal."

"Yes, she is far luckier than some of us," Charlotte sighed, not one to usually lament over her position in life, but finding it extremely difficult not to when in the face of one so fortunate. "If my mother's gossip is to be trusted, Miss Darcy owns nearly half of Derbyshire."

Seeing Charlotte's pained expression, Edward smiled in hopes of lifting her spirits. "The miserable half," He commented wryly, throwing another look in the direction of the Netherfield party. He noticed his parents and sisters standing to the side, waiting to be introduced. "It seems I am going to be forced to make the pleasure of their acquaintance."

With a nod of dismissal, and a quick bow on Edward's part, Charlotte allowed her young friend to join his family.

Having to maneuver around quite a few chatting families, Edward arrived at the side of his father the moment the introductions began.

"We are so happy to make your acquaintance, Mr. Bingley," Mrs. Bennet simpered, speaking out of turn and ignoring Sir William's attempt to make proper introductions. "This is my eldest, Jane, and my younger three Mary, Kitty, and Lydia. You have met my husband and son, Edward."

"Of course," Mr. Bingley bowed his head in acknowledgement, seemingly unfazed by the lady's lack of propriety, though the others in his party certainly noticed it. "It is a pleasure to make your acq – I mean all of your acquaintance." His eyes met Jane's, causing him to stumble over his words.

Edward had to hide a chuckle behind a cough at the young man's shameless infatuation with his eldest sister. The Bennets waited to be introduced to the rest of the party and Bingley, finally after staring at Jane for much longer than propriety called for, realized his lapse in manners.

"Oh," He commented, gesturing to the others who stood next to them. "Allow me to introduce my brother-in-law, Mr. Hurst, as well as my elder sisters Mrs. Hurst and Miss Bingley. Miss Darcy over here is a family friend."

The two parties bowed and curtsied towards the other.

"Miss Bennet," Bingley spoke, addressing Jane. "I have unfortunately already promised my first set to another, but would it be too forward to ask for your second? I mean, if your card isn't already full." The man's face brightened with a blush as he awaited the fair lady's answer.

"I would be honored, Mr. Bingley," Jane responded demurely, her cheeks warming as well.

Remembering himself, he turned to Mrs. Bennet. "Of course, I will have to stand up with all of your lovely daughters, Mrs. Bennet. If a spot can be saved on each of your cards, I would be honored to share a dance with all of you."

Mary declined, not interested in dancing at all that evening – but Lydia and Kitty giddily accepted, giggling like the silly girls they were.

Edward Bennet, aware of his duty as a gentleman, turned to the women of the Netherfield party to offer himself as well. "If you ladies are inclined to dance tonight; I would be delighted to share a set with each of you. Miss Darcy, may I have the first?"

Frances blinked a bit, taken aback by the forward young man's advances. She had promised Bingley to at least dance a set with him, and she knew that if she declined Mr. Bennet's offer, she would be forced to sit out the rest of the evening. Not one to go back on her promises, she accepted his outstretched hand.

"Yes, you may."

But while she expected the usual glint of conquest to be apparent in his eyes, his dark gaze was merely full of amusement as he led her to the floor.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Bingley fall into line with Miss Lucas, who they had made the acquaintance of earlier. Making sure he saw the look of absolute displeasure on her face, to which he just answered with a smile, she turned toward her partner but did not meet his eyes.

The music began and he bowed to her curtsy.

"So," Edward began conversationally, grasping her hands as the dance demanded it. "You are from Derbyshire?"

"Yes, sir."

Not one to allow a clipped tone deter him, he tried to approach the conversation from a different angle. "And have you known the Bingleys for very long?"

"Nearing on five years."

"Ah," Edward turned, along with the other gentlemen in line, trying desperately to think of something else to say. He was never one to get tripped up in company, his open manner resonating even with the coldest of acquaintances. Apparently though, his art was not working on Miss Darcy.

Not only was she lacking in response to any question he asked her, but she also refused to meet his eyes any time the dance brought them together.

This was not done unconsciously. Frances had been incredibly unnerved when she met the young man's gaze earlier. There was something about the way he looked at her that made her feel as though she was just a part of some big joke. He had seen her displeasure with the company in which she was forced to mingle with and had taken it one step further by making her even more uncomfortable. His ease of manners reminded her far too much of the man that had so badly tricked her sister that she couldn't help the dour expression set on her features.

"We must speak of something, Miss Darcy," Edward insisted, trying once again to draw the young lady out. "It will not do to dance around each other with nothing to say."

"Do you talk by rule while dancing?"

"No," He answered firmly, though she could hear the smile in his voice. "I prefer to be taciturn and distant. It makes the experience all the more enjoyable."

Frances was glad that it was time for her to turn, it gave her a chance to hide the shock that surely showed on her face. _He was laughing at her._

Thankfully, the song ended and both sighed a breath of relief to be done with their interaction. Without saying another word, Frances curtsied and walked off in the direction of the Bingley sisters.

Edward huffed a bit, not used to being so thoroughly ignored by a dance partner. Usually the ladies of Meryton could not stop talking in his presence, hopeful that they would be the next Mrs. Bennet of Longbourn, but Miss Darcy was different. She neither simpered nor giggled at his wit, but simply deflected it with dry comments and short responses.

Choosing not to let the uncomfortable encounter ruin his evening, the young Mr. Bennet walked off in search of another partner.

* * *

An hour passed quickly, the dancing youths hardly taking note of how fast the time was going as they were passed from partner to partner. There were loud conversations coming from all corners of the room, mostly to do with the Netherfield party.

"Have you ever seen such elegant dancers?" Mrs. Long commented to Lady Lucas as they observed the Bingley sisters dancing with their respective partners. "It's too bad they refuse to dance with anyone outside of their party."

Despite his offer earlier, the two sisters had been carefully evading Edward Bennet's company. As was all too common in small neighborhoods such as theirs, this caused quite a bit of tongue wagging.

"Poor Edward," Lady Lucas commented, spotting the young man dancing with her youngest daughter. "Such a fine young man. It truly is their loss that they do not get to spend time in his company. Miss Darcy was absolutely frigid earlier while dancing with him."

"Yes," Mrs. Long agreed, then turned her eye to Bingley who was dancing with Jane for a second time that night. "But thankfully Mr. Bingley is not like his sisters or friend. He's very obliging indeed."

Hearing the turn of the conversation, Mrs. Phillips came closer to the women to have her share in the gossip. "It is no surprise he would pay dear Jane such attentions. A true beauty she is as I have always said," she commented, unable to pass up on the opportunity to brag about her niece's apparent beauty.

Reluctantly, Mrs. Long and Lady Lucas had to agree.

As the matrons of town were gossiping in their corner, Edward was enjoying a dance with young Maria Lucas, who had just come out at the previous assembly. Unfortunately for him, his enjoyment was cut short as he was forced to listen to the obnoxious laughter of his younger sisters who were in line beside him.

To say that Lydia and Kitty were flirts was an understatement. They were downright shameless when it came to their giggles and teases. While Edward was not an absolute paragon of propriety, he wished his sisters would at least try to act like the young ladies their station called them to be. Looking over at his mother though, partaking in a bit too much punch and in raptures over Jane and Mr. Bingley sharing a second dance, it really was no surprise that they seemed to emulate her behaviors.

"Do they not look so delightful together?" He could hear his mama brag to another matron, a look of victory evident on her features. "There shall be a courtship in no time!"

Edward heaved a sigh, turning one last time to the music. When the instruments died down, he bowed to Maria and led her back to where Sir William was having a rather one-sided conversation about St. James with a very disinterested Mr. Bennet.

Tired, after listening to his mother's gossip and sisters' flirting, he chose to sit the next dance out with Mary, who had not left her post on the other side of the assembly room. "Do you not wish to dance, Mary?" Edward asked, though he remembered her insisting that she was not inclined to dance. He sometimes wondered whether she said that to hide the fact that she actually wanted to, but suffered from a lack of offers. It was no secret that she was the plainest of the Bennet sisters. "I could dance the next set with you, if you would like?"

She hesitated. "No thank you, Edward. I do not see the joy in dancing around when the act of conversation is so much more enlightening."

The young man nodded, deciding not to point out that currently Mary was doing neither. "You are not my first rejection of the night. Hopefully though, you will be my last."

As the two siblings watched the couples dance a jig, Edward noticed Miss Darcy standing near to where he and his sister stood. If possible, she looked even more miserable than she had earlier when the two of them were dancing.

Bingley, who had decided to take a break himself by offering to get Jane some punch, noticed his friend's downcast expression.

"Miss Darcy," Bingley addressed her formally, coming to stand by her side. "Why do you stand off to the side? I must have you dance!"

"I have danced, Mr. Bingley."

"Yes, but only three times!" Bingley looked around at the occupants of the room. "Who would have thought that a country dance could be so lively?"

Darcy's only response was to raise her brows.

"I did not realize how many beauties resided in the country either," Bingley ignored his friend's silence, his eyes drifting to the fair haired lady who had been the receiver of his affections. "She is an angel, Darcy."

Giving him a stern look for addressing her so informally, the girl couldn't help but agree. "She is pretty, to be sure."

"She's beautiful!" Bingley cried, his gaze never wandering from the eldest Miss Bennet.

"Then why are you wasting your time with me, when you could be with her?"

"I do not like to see you so miserable," Bingley admitted, focusing in on her with a look of concern. "Surely, you could find another dance partner. Maybe Jane's brother would offer to stand up with you again? He seemed to be amiable enough."

Darcy, noticing for the first time that Edward Bennet was listening in on their conversation, replied with a near smug look on her face, "He was a tolerable partner, but not near handsome enough to tempt me for a second set. Go enjoy your angel, Mr. Bingley. You are wasting your time on me."

Bingley, too used to Frances' taciturn behavior to take offense, walked off to find Jane – leaving his friend to wallow in her own self pity.

Edward stood ramrod straight, his mouth pressed in a grim line at what he had just heard. However, he was determined not to allow this haughty heiress spoil his night and spirit.

"What is that look for?" Charlotte asked as Edward crossed the room to stand beside her, a look of amusement evident on his features. Mrs. Bennet and Lady Lucas ended their conversation to listen to what he had to say.

"According to Miss Darcy," He paused for effect, knowing that the moment he said her name, another few ears would be turned towards him. "I am a mere tolerable dance partner, but not handsome enough to tempt her for another set."

"Well, I have never –" Mrs. Bennet spoke, aghast at such poor manners. "What a thing to say!"

"Maybe she was simply tired of dancing," Charlotte tried to reason. "She probably never intended for you or anyone to hear such a comment."

"Oh, yes she did."

"What do you mean?"

"She wanted me to hear it," His eyes searched the room until he met Miss Darcy's gaze, a hard expression still resting on her features. "She looked me dead in the eye before she said it."

Across the room, Frances Darcy met Edward Bennet's gaze only to realize he was having a conversation about her. Never one to enjoy attention, she stiffened as several eyes turned towards her, a blush blooming on her cheeks.

' _Why do you care?'_ She thought to herself. ' _You practically insulted the man to his face.'_

But the more she stood on the sidelines and watched Edward Bennet converse with those of his society, the guiltier she felt in regards to her comment. However, she could not forget the near mocking look he had given her earlier when he had offered to stand up with her. No, she would not allow Edward Bennet to disturb her anymore. Let him talk, what were these people to her?

One thing was for certain, she wanted out of Hertfordshire. The very moment Bingley was on his feet; she would waste no time in joining her sister in London.

* * *

"To say such a thing!" Mrs. Bennet ranted as they sat in the sitting room after the assembly. "Who does she think she is?"

"Just like any of us, my dear," Mr. Bennet tiredly commented. "She is free to have her own opinions and express them in whatever way she choses. Though, I do wish she would have kept them to herself in regards to my son. He had been nothing but polite to her."

"You were polite – weren't you, Edward Bennet?" His mama questioned him with a slight accusatory tone. "You didn't say anything untoward to the lady to make her upset, did you?"

Edward tried to think back to all their interactions. "I barely said a word to her, mama. And what I did say, was polite indeed. I promise you."

Mrs. Bennet looked unconvinced, but could not resist the desire to defend her son against this interloper's slander. "Then I have no idea what could have set her so against you. You are handsome enough."

"Thank you, mama," Edward commented dryly at her observation.

"Well," Mr. Bennet stood from his chair, gesturing for all the ladies to follow his example. "I believe that settles it. Edward is handsome enough, but not for Miss Darcy."

"I will try not to lose any sleep over such a thought," Edward smirked, walking from the room. "Though Miss Darcy shall never expect me to ask her to dance again."

"Forget about Miss Darcy," Mrs. Bennet said, turning towards Jane and wrapping her arm around the girl's shoulder. "At least my dear Jane has captured the attention of Mr. Bingley. To think – you, mistress of Netherfield Hall. It's a dream come true."

Jane blushed prettily, her eyes glued to her feet.

Before parting to go to their rooms, Edward grasped Jane's elbow.

"Did you enjoy yourself, sister?"

Jane smiled, her eyes bright in the candlelight. "Oh yes, Eddie. Mr. Bingley is just as you described him. He is all a young man ought to be: handsome, amiable…"

"Not to mention conveniently rich."

His elder sister smacked his arm gently at such a comment, but said nothing to refute it.

"Good night, Edward."

"Good night, Jane." He smiled at her, enjoying the look of contentment that rested on her features.

After such a tiring evening, Edward thought sleep would come to him easily – though he tossed and turned for most of the night. Eventually though, he tired himself out enough to fall into a deep sleep.

That's when the dreams started.

* * *

At Netherfield, the party was also conversing about what they saw at the assembly.

"Have you ever met such savage people?" Miss Bingley questioned, sitting on the settee by the pianoforte. "Why, I do not believe they even know what manners are."

Louisa giggled at her sister's statement, her decorative fan fluttering in front of her. Frances, standing in front of the fire with her back turned to the room, could not help but agree – though, she did not allow herself to voice such an opinion.

"I do not know what you mean!" Bingley insisted, his confusion evident on his features. "I have never met such welcoming people. Miss Bennet was an absolute angel! Much prettier than most ladies of the _ton_."

"Jane Bennet is indeed a nice girl," Caroline conceded. "But no amount of beauty can cover up the unfortunate circumstances of her situation."

"Her mother's certainly interesting," Louisa simpered, hitting her sleeping husband with the fan in her hand, making him jump to attention. "William and I could not believe her disregard to propriety."

"Miss Bennet's family cannot be held against her," Bingley defended, standing from his spot on the couch. "You have yet to mention anything that you saw wrong with her."

"She smiles too much," Darcy spoke for the first time since they had arrived. "And whether you want to admit it or not, the mother is a great discredit to her character."

"That has nothing to do with her character!"

"Except that it does," Frances turned from the fire, looking Bingley directly in the eye. "She has been raised to capture the attention of a gentlemen of great consequence. Surely, you did not miss the comments her mother was making regarding your fortune."

The young man said nothing in response, having heard Mrs. Bennet's exclamations several times throughout the night. The conversation lulled and everyone fell silent.

After the fire had died down, all occupants chose to retire for the night.

As Sarah helped Frances remove her dress, she inquired as to how the evening had turned out.

"Fine," The girl answered, her tone short. Sarah did not ask her anything else as she eased her nightgown over her head.

Frances dismissed her maid, wanting some time to herself to get her thoughts together. Sitting in front of her vanity, she slowly eased the pins out of her hair.

She should not have allowed Bingley to convince her to attend an assembly while she was in no humor to be in company. After such a trying summer in regards to Georgiana, Frances had wanted nothing more than to retire to Pemberley until the start of the season. Bingley just had to choose now to lease out an estate.

Sighing heavily, Frances pushed back from the vanity and walked back in to her bedroom. Grabbing a book off of the side table, she climbed into bed.

Surely, after such a night, she would have no problem falling asleep. But, as her eyes closed, the dreams began.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N:** _Since it took so long to update (it's only been about 3-4 days, I don't know what I'm talking about), I decided to post this monster of a chapter. I'm really excited for the next few events to take place and I have a lot of cool ideas. Please review and let me know what you think! Reviews truly mean the world to me and are the fuel behind my (writer's) fire. Thank you for all the reviews and follows thus far!_

 _austenauthoress_

* * *

 **Chapter 4**

 _Edward could tell he was dreaming. What he could not tell though – was where he was._

 _He was in a bedroom that was far more luxurious than the one he occupied at Longbourn. A fire glowed in the fireplace and there was a set of champagne flutes set off to the side. While the large bed took up a good portion of the room, there was a settee and two high backed chairs that also occupied the space._

 _As far as he could tell, he was alone. But he could not shake the feeling of anticipation that bubbled up within him._

' _What am I waiting for?" Edward asked himself, not moving from the spot he seemed to be rooted in._

 _A door caught his attention from across the room. There was some rustling behind it, but it remained tightly shut._

' _Am I waiting for someone?'_

 _He did not have to wait long for the answer._

 _The door opened to reveal a young lady wrapped in a nightgown and robe. Both were made of the whitest silk he had ever seen. Glancing her up and down, he could not calm the wild beating of his heart._

 _While he could not make out the features of her face – the wild, dark curls that cascaded down her shoulders captured his attention the moment she stepped into the light of the room. He could tell from the way she walked that she was hesitant, a shyness obvious in the posture of her body._

" _Do not be afraid," He heard himself say, an unrelenting need to comfort the girl who came to him with such obvious anxiety. "You are absolutely beautiful."_

 _He still could not see her face clearly, but he could tell she had eased a bit at his words._

 _Stepping closer to her so she did not have to walk the entire length of the room by herself, Edward met her halfway. He grasped her delicate hands tightly within his own and was surprised to find that they were not smooth like the usual ladies, but slightly callous and coarse. He was also surprised to see a wedding band firmly wrapped around her finger. Was he married?_

 _Unable to resist, he released his hold on her to run a hand through the curls that seemed to taunt him. "I love your hair like this."_

 _A soft laugh erupted from the pair of lips he could not quite make out._

" _You are not the one who has to maintain it."_

 _His ears perked up at her words. He knew that voice, he just could not put a face with it. Who was this lady he so desperately wanted to hold?_

 _Pulling his hand from her curls, he gripped her forearms gently and drew her close._

 _Though she had relaxed during their teasing banter, the girl once again tensed in trepidation. To ease her anxiety, Edward dropped a tender kiss to her brow. In response, she hesitantly placed her hands on his chest._

" _I love you," Edward could hear himself whisper, an indescribable feeling taking grip of his person._

 _She was quiet for a moment and the man could hear her trying to control her breathing. Though it took her a moment to calm herself enough to answer him – when she finally did – her voice was firm._

" _I love you, too."_

 _He leaned in to bestow a soft kiss on the pert pink lips that he could now see clearly. It was meant to be a short kiss, but her lips under his own – opened like a flower. Before he knew what he was doing, he ran his hands up her arms and into her hair, his tongue meeting with hers in an exquisite union._

 _Suddenly, she wasn't so hesitant under his touch and attentions. She kissed him back with a fervor that surprised him and a passion that he could not deny. She loved him, it was evident in every action as well as every kiss._

 _His hands had a mind of their own as he brushed the sides of her robe apart, causing the fine silk to fall to the floor. Once that was taken care of, he scooped her up in his arms without breaking from her lips. As he carried her towards the bed that lay already turned down, the girl's lips found the skin of his neck, causing him to groan._

 _When he made it over to the bed, he laid her gently on the covers, his hands tangled in her hair once again. But something made him stop from leaning down and kissing her again. Suddenly, he could see the features of her face clearly. While the lips he had been acquainting himself with were now swollen and red, there was no mistaking who they belonged to. It was her eyes though, as dark as the night with obvious desire, that unnerved him beyond belief and caused an exclamation to fall from his lips._

" _Miss Darcy!"_

* * *

Edward jolted awake, damp with sweat. His heart pounded loudly in his ears as he attempted to catch his breath. Sitting up, he surveyed the room.

' _Good,"_ He thought to himself, recognizing the familiar surroundings of his room at Longbourn. ' _It was just a dream_.'

Shaking himself a bit, he threw his legs over the side of the bed and walked to the washstand at the side of the room. He splashed water in his face – trying to get rid of he perspiration that had gathered there.

"Why was I dreaming of Miss Darcy?" He whispered to himself, genuine confusion evident in his tone. He felt like an absolute rake to have dreamt up such a provocative scene, especially of a lady who had expressed absolutely no interest in him.

With his breathing still irregular, he walked over to the window to check the time. It was dawn – only a small slither of the sun peaking up over the horizon. There was no point in him trying to go back to sleep now with damp night clothes and a pounding heart.

Quickly, he changed into his day clothes and buttoned up his jacket. He grabbed his hat, the book of Blake poetry that he had left beside his bed, and was out of the house before the servants could ask him where he was going. He didn't even know where he was going, but walking gave him an opportunity to clear his thoughts and try to bring clarity to the situation. He needed clarity, desperately.

' _Okay,_ ' He thought to himself as he opened the gate that led to the well worn path he took every morning. _'This is just one of those times that you allowed your desire to overcome you. You are just like any other young man at this age who has had to fight these urges. It has nothing to do with Miss Darcy, but everything to do with your unregulated passions.'_

The more he thought about it, the more it made sense.

Edward had not dabbled in school like most boys do when sent to university. This meant that – despite having the practical knowledge of the way things worked – his desires went largely unchecked. He chose to channel his frustrations instead through long walks and – if he were really desperate for some kind of physical exertion – horseback riding to visit the tenants.

The reason he had dreamt of Miss Darcy was simply because she was the only available woman he had ever really met that he had not known since infancy. It was hard for him to show interest in girls that he had played with during his younger years. While he did visit London often, the Gardiner's did not participate much in London society. Meaning that, during his stays with them, he had not met many young ladies whom he felt he could take an interest in.

Of course, he had thought some women were beautiful before and had felt incredibly attracted to them, but if they did not have a certain intelligence infused in their conversation – he could have cared less.

He had commented to Jane once that only the deepest love would ever persuade him into matrimony – estate or not. If he did not take a wife and produce an heir, he would make sure that whoever inherited Longbourn after would have the knowledge of how to run it efficiently. However, he would not forfeit his happiness for the sake of an inheritance.

Miss Darcy was smart; one did not need to know her well to understand that. After spending only a few minutes in her company, he could tell you that without any conversation. It was all in her eyes, though she had tried desperately not to meet his own. So yes, he had felt attracted to her – but that did not change the fact that her personality was haughty and high-handed. If there was one thing Edward could not stand, it was misplaced pride.

He had not really been paying attention to where he was walking, but when he looked up, he realized he was on that path that led to the pond in the back of Longbourn's lands. It was not yet too terribly cold, the October air just warm enough to warrant a quick dip in the water if one desired.

Maybe a swim was exactly what he needed to cool his sudden uncontrollable ardour.

* * *

 _Frances was dreaming, she was nearly certain of it. Not only was her vision foggy and the room unfamiliar, but there was a strange feeling present within her that was foreign._

 _'Why am I so anxious?' She asked herself, placing a hand over her heart to calm it's beating. 'What am I feeling right now?'_

 _She stood before a mirror, but could not see herself clearly. She could tell she was wearing a nightgown, one that was completely different from all her other ones in design and modesty._

 _'I am a positive tart in this' She couldn't help thinking, the fabric almost sheer beneath her hands. Grabbing her robe off the chair of the vanity, she wrapped it around her shoulders to cover up the barely there sleepwear._

 _Taking this opportunity to look around the room, it was a bit more modest than she was used to. The bed lay at the far end of the room with a settee and chair resting in front of the fire. The vanity stand stood against the wall – something that Frances was accustomed to seeing in a dressing room rather than a bedroom._

 _'How strange,' She could not help thinking, baffled by her surroundings._

 _Sarah entered from another door._

 _"Sarah!" Frances exclaimed in an unusual show of excitement. "I am so happy to see you!"_

 _But her personal maid said nothing in response. Positioning her in front of the mirror, where she could now see herself clearly enough to make out her features, Sarah slowly began to withdraw the pins that held up her hair._

 _With her curls tumbling down over her shoulders, Frances felt that she looked absolutely wild. Never one to enjoy how her hair looked down, she almost insisted that Sarah stop – but she didn't. The feeling of anxiety stopped her from making any sort of comment._

 _"What is this I feel Sarah?" The young woman asked, staring at her blushing reflection in the mirror. "Why do I feel this way?"_

 _Sarah did not answer. Instead, she backed away from her mistress, and dismissed herself with a curtsy. Frances did not even hear her close the door behind her._

 _Unaccustomed to feeling such a lack of control over both her servants and emotions, Darcy was at a loss of what to do next. She felt like she was waiting for something, but she wasn't exactly sure what it was that she waited for._

 _Or maybe someone was waiting for her?_

 _It was then that she noticed the glittering gem on her finger. It was of little consequence and not very expensive looking, yet the ring made her heart beat wildly._

 _'Am I married?' She asked herself, shocked that she could not remember such an event taking place. But there was the evidence of it right on her finger. That still didn't answer the feeling of anticipation that would not leave her._

 _Hearing a noise on the other side of the door, she decided to see if it was perhaps a maid who could tell her where she was._

 _Hesitantly, she turned the brass doorknob._

 _It was not a maid that stood in the next room, nor was it a footman or any kind of servant. No, this man was most definitely not employed by her. He was dressed in a night shirt and robe, a tender look written across his features. Just to see such a loving expression on his countenance caused in her such an indescribable feeling of joy. However, once she connected who the face belonged to, her exuberance quickly turned to confusion._

 _"Mr. Bennet?"_

* * *

Frances gasped as she sat up with her sheets in tangles around her feet. Breathing heavily, she glanced around the room. At first, she did not fully recognize the furniture – but after a few moments of deep breathing, she recalled that she was staying at Netherfield in Hertfordshire.

Feeling uncomfortably damp with sweat, she threw the covers from her person and walked over to the window. Pushing it open, she allowed the fresh air to overwhelm her senses. Eventually, her breathing returned to normal.

Frances was absolutely baffled. Why had she dreamt of Mr. Bennet? Sure she had danced with him at the assembly the night before, but she was not accustomed to dreaming of all the young men she happened to dance with.

What could it mean? The implication of it unsettled her. Now that she was far enough removed from the occurrence, she was able to make some sense of it. She had been married in her dream, obviously. But who had she been married to? Mr. Bennet? Was that the reason he had been residing in the chambers next to her?

She turned from the window. Walking over to the nightstand, she washed her face before toweling it dry. Even after wiping the remnants of sweat off her face, she still could not shake the unease that had settled upon her.

Surely this dream was just a result of being in a new place and having much more on her mind than she was used to. She was worried about Georgiana, concerned about the running of Pemberley after leaving it in the hands of her steward for so long, and, on top of it all, trying desperately to help Bingley make good decisions in regards to his land. It really was too much for just one person.

"That must be what it is," Darcy muttered to herself, everything suddenly making sense. "I'm just overwrought by all these responsibilities."

It didn't even occur to Frances that she had always shouldered responsibilities with little trouble. But, once her mind was set upon something, it was set. Yes, this was all just the result of too many worries.

Noticing that it was already dawn, the young woman decided to dress for the day rather than waste time trying to fall back to sleep. Maybe a ride would clear her thoughts?

She walked into her dressing room, tugging on the cord to summon Sarah as she made her way over to the vanity. Looking in the mirror, she noticed that her hair was a bit more wild than normal due to her restless sleep – but other than that, she looked to be completely calm.

Eventually Sarah walked in, her eyes bleary after having been woken up so early. Seeing this, Frances couldn't help the guilt that seemed to build up within her.

"I am so sorry I disturbed your sleep, Sarah," The maid was taken aback by the genuine sentiment behind her employer's words. "I could not go back to sleep and desired a ride."

While Miss Darcy had always been the best of mistresses and incredibly fair to all those employed under her, Sarah could not help but be surprised by the apology. It was her job to rise whenever her mistress did and make her presentable for the day, regardless of how early it was when Miss Darcy chose to wake. She could tell there was a slight unease about her employer but decided to ignore it.

"It's my job, mum," Sarah insisted, pulling the nightgown over her mistress' head and folding it over her arm. "I do not mind at all. A ride sounds like a lovely way to spend the morning."

Darcy nodded, waiting as the maid readied her riding habit. Once her clothes were all sorted and her boots were in place, she donned her hat over a simple hairstyle and asked for her riding crop. Ready to face the day, she thanked Sarah and walked out the back of the manor towards the stables.

The moment the stable hands noticed her walking along the path, they rushed to ready her horse.

"Miss Darcy," Mr. Smith, the head groomsman bowed. "We did not expect you to want to ride so early today. It will only take a few moments to saddle Apollonia."

"That's alright," She assured him, her anxiousness unfortunately being translated into annoyance by the poor servant. He bowed to her once more, then disappeared into the stable to help the other men prepare her horse.

The sun was just starting to rise, it's rays hitting Netherfield in a way that made it look quite magnificent. Darcy had to admit it was a much better prospect than she had been wiling to admit, but the people she could not get passed. Especially Mr. Bennet, with his mocking eyes and easy manners.

She heard a sharp neigh from behind her and watched as Apollonia was brought out into the light of the morning. The moment she saw her; her trot became much flashier than before. For the first time since she had arrived at Netherfield, she allowed a small smile to cross her features. There was nothing she loved more than a good ride.

"Hello girl," She murmured as the horse was brought to stand before her. She pat her black hair, smoothing down a few wild pieces that rested below the saddle. "Are you ready for a ride?"

As if she knew exactly what her mistress said, the horse let out a loud whine in anticipation. Chuckling inwardly at the sound, Frances accepted the help offered to her by the young stable hand who had led her horse. His hands formed a makeshift platform for her riding boot and she was boosted up into the saddle.

With a wave to the young men who had been attending the stables, the two Derbyshire born creatures took off in some unknown direction. Already, Frances was feeling better. A sense a relief always washed over her when she was on her horse. It was as if, for a few minutes or hours even, the only world that existed was the one she saw before her. It was exhilarating.

Apollonia seemed to be in need of a good exercise as well. Frances allowed her to run across the meadow down from Netherfield a few times before slowing her to a trot to explore the paths. Darcy had seen a good portion of Netherfield's lands after visiting with several tenants in the company of the Bingleys, however this area looked unfamiliar.

The vegetation that lined the path seemed to be a bit overgrown and Frances determined she would have to tell Bingley of it's existence before he planned any big hunting parties. While the terrain was not as well maintained as what her young mare was used to, Apollonian kept her canter steady and continued forward.

Darcy did not know how much time had passed or how far she had ridden out, but eventually she came to a small clearing. She could see a bordering fence signaling that she had reached the end of Bingley's property. After riding across Pemberley day in and day out, she knew that Apollonia was not yet read to turn back – so she decided to follow along the fence for awhile.

Eventually she reached a dense set of woods that would have been near impossible to guide her mount through.

"Perhaps it is time to turn back, girl," Darcy commented, not seeing any way for them to get past. Knowing that the Bingleys would soon be awake and breaking their fast, Frances determined that now was as good a time as any to head back to Netherfield.

She was about to turn around – when she heard a loud splash resounding from just beyond the trees.

' _What could that have been?_ ' She thought, quickly deciding to find a place to tie her mare. Her inner "estate mistress" began to take over as she thought over the possibilities. ' _This is private property. No one should be back here, not even a tenant._ '

Hopping off her horse, she decided to leave Apollonia tied to the fence where she could still graze and rest as she went to investigate what had made the noise. Once she was assured that the mare was content with her placement, Frances trudged through the overgrown bushes that seemed to border the wilderness.

While the morning sun was now steadily making its way across the sky, the area within the trees was dark and damp. The woods looked nearly untouched by humans with its foliage growing so wild and free. In all honesty, the spot reminded her a lot of Pemberley.

She continued to walk through the trees before she came open a slight break in the leaves that allowed her a glimpse of a small pond that lay nearly secluded at the back of the lands.

"How charming," Frances remarked, peeping through the foliage to get a better look. However, a loud splash reminded her once again of why she had dismounted in the first place. What she saw next though, she hadn't expected.

It was a man.

He wore no jacket or cravat like the men she was used to seeing in society. Frances though would not have been as scandalized if his white shirtsleeves were not almost transparent from the water. The definition of his arms and shoulders caused a hot flush to break out over her cheeks. She couldn't see much more of him, since only his head and shoulders remained above the surface.

Seeing his discarded clothing on the side of the bank, she deducted that he could not be a servant. While his coat and hat were not very finely made, they showed at least some level of wealth. Still there were no tenants for miles from where she stood so surely it could not be one of them.

Just as she was thinking this, the young man turned in the water to swim out towards the middle of the pond.

Frances froze. It could not be _him_.

But it was. After such a vivid dream, there was no mistaking the young Mr. Bennet's tall figure. He stood for a moment before diving into the water and swimming towards the center. Frances hoped that the leaves covered her enough to conceal her from his view as his face turned into her direction. He would not have seen her either way, his eyes closed as if he were deep in thought or trying to relish his moment of freedom.

For a second, Frances could almost say she envied him. It was completely acceptable for a man to act in the way the Mr. Bennet was – but should she have done so – it would have been a completely different story. Envy though was not the only thing she was feeling.

She was also embarrassed beyond all measure. To be watching him in this way when he thought he was alone was surely a slight crime in and of itself. But, most of all, she was intrigued. She had only seen a few men without their jackets, but this was a completely different kind of experience.

The young man's shoulders were broad and his arms were strong as he made large strokes. Frances could see that he certainly was not an idle kind of gentleman, despite what his land implied regarding its management. It was obvious that he was having to be doing some kind of work somewhere – his muscles too developed to suggest any differently. A strange fire crept through her belly, causing the anxious feeling from her dream to return in tenfold.

Knowing that she was truly playing with fire at this point, Frances turned away from the scene and began her trek back through the brush without a second glance. Apollonia would start getting antsy if she took too long and the last thing she needed was for her to create a commotion and alert Mr. Bennet that she had been watching him take a swim.

The feelings she had been trying to escape from that morning came back with a vengeance, though she tried not to think on them too much. It was like she had reasoned before – it all had to do with the stress of being in a new place within a new society. She was always on edge when in a society she was not familiar with.

Hopping on Apollonia, Frances slowly rode back in the direction of Netherfield. She needed to give her face time to return to its normal pallor before she arrived, knowing that Caroline Bingley would certainly comment on it should she see it. By the time she reached the great field, she had been able to convince herself that any lingering thoughts of Mr. Bennet were devoid of any true sentiment. She had nothing to worry about and this would all pass.

* * *

After Edward had redressed in his jacket and cravat, he decided to back track to Oakham Mount. Although his swim had done much to cool his ardour, the water being rather chilled due to the lateness of the season, his thoughts were still a jumbled mess.

While he wanted to blame most of his attraction on simple unrepressed passions that had built up over too long – the fact that he would dream of Miss Darcy as opposed to anyone else – still had him reeling.

He had found her attractive. He would admit that he had even if the feeling were not mutual. Her personality though, did her no favors. In fact, she was exactly the kind of person that Edward avoided when he had still been at university.

While Edward was a gentleman by birth, at Oxford there was a distinct difference between gentlemen of little consequence and those of larger. The ones of larger certainly thought greatly of themselves and thought very little of those below them. Had Miss Darcy been a man, she would have been the kind of a man to look down his nose at those less fortunate than he. It was an unfortunate attitude to have, but many people of the _ton_ had it – including Miss Darcy. Pride would be her downfall, whether she was male or female.

Shaking his head to rid himself of any thoughts of the girl, Edward continued on with his walk.

With the word of Blake held in one hand and his hat in the other, Edward reached the mount. There was a gentle breeze blowing that cleared his senses instantly. While his clothes were still damp – causing a chill to run through him for a moment – the feel of the sun he relished as it shined generously upon him. After such a turbulent morning, the calm of the mount was welcomed eagerly by the troubled young man.

The moment was short lived though as he glanced over the great field beyond the barrier of the land separating Netherfield and Longbourn. A dark horse, with an equally dark rider, cut across the grass. There was no mistaking the rider was Miss Darcy, for her elegance and superior breeding showed evidently in her seat.

An unfamiliar feeling overwhelmed him – his eyes never leaving the two beings making their way to the great estate a short way off. Shaking his head and refusing to give it another thought, Edward turned from the scene and started his trek home. It had already been a long morning and he was determined not to let the young woman bother him anymore.

* * *

Many courtesy calls passed between the party of Netherfield and that of Longbourn. While Edward's family harbored a deep respect for the visiting party, it was quite clear that the Netherfield ladies were usually more put out by their visits than anything. Despite their obvious distaste in the Bennets though, Mrs. Bennet continued to sing their praises.

"Such accomplished young ladies," She would say after they had taken their leave. "I wish though that they would not bring Miss Darcy along with them. Her manners do not improve upon further acquaintance."

While Edward was inclined to believe that Mrs. Bennet's dislike was due to the young woman's earlier comments about himself, he had to agree. While he had not been present in the drawing room during most of their visit – more than likely out tending to tenant's complaints and problems in the place of his father – he usually made it back before they took their leave. While Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst acknowledged him – albeit coldly – Miss Darcy did not even bother to meet his eyes. He noticed a slight flush infuse her face whenever he stepped into the room, but he assumed that was more from annoyance than anything. She would greet him and then all talking on her part would cease.

That was fine with him though. Ever since he had had that dream the first night of their meeting, he had not been exactly eager to renew their acquaintance. However, since they were forced to share a similar society, being thrown together was inevitable.

The next time they were forced into company was at a small gathering at Lucas Lodge.

The Lucases were throwing a party in honor of the new neighbors they had acquired. Much of the upper society of Meryton was in attendance, including the Bennets and the Netherfield party. With such grand guests in attendance – the gathered families were a bit more subdued at that party than usual.

If only Edward Bennet's relations would catch on to these societal cues.

Despite the fact that they were doing so under Miss Bingley's disapproving glares, Edward's sisters continued to act as though they had been raised in a barn rather than an estate.

"Such unfortunate family," Caroline Bingley commented, watching as Lydia and Kitty Bennet chased after the eldest Lucas boy. "How Jane comes from such people as unrefined as the Bennets is a true mystery to be sure."

While Mrs. Hurst simpered in agreement, Darcy merely pursed her lips in silent disapproval.

Sir William noticed that the Netherfield party had entered and went directly to greet them. After he had done so, Bingley showed no interest in anyone besides Jane Bennet and quickly went to her side. While Jane smiled as the man approached her, nothing in her countenance was any different from how she greeted anyone else who sought her company. This observation was not lost on Frances.

Seeing the girl's eyes drawn to Jane and Bingley, who were about to dance, Sir William smiled. "They are a splendid couple – are they not, Miss Darcy?"

Already knowing Sir William's rather chatty nature, Frances did not wish to encourage his conversation. "Indeed."

"And such lovely dancers!"

"Any savage can dance," The young woman replied simply, her tone implying finality.

Sir William, not a very perceptive gentleman, opened his mouth to reply when he noticed another family had entered. As host, he had to leave Miss Darcy's side to greet them and she could not say she was sorry to see him go.

Edward Bennet watched the entire exchange from across the room, annoyance rising in him at the lady's treatment of their host. While Sir William definitely had a tendency to over speak, it was his guests' duty to do him the courtesy of listening.

"Unbelievable," Edward commented as Charlotte came to his side. He spoke quietly since – not far away – Mr. Bingley and Jane were sharing a dance nearby. "Miss Darcy is just as sour as she was before. Does she ever feel the need to smile or laugh?"

"Not everyone is like you, Edward," The young lady reminded him. "Some of us cannot smile and laugh as easily as you do."

Though Edward knew her words to be true – he could find no reason why someone with such good breeding, should be so badly behaved in society. Of course he was hardly one to talk. It seemed his family was doing everything in their power to show how badly mannered they were when in the company of others.

"Mary!" Lydia slapped the top of the pianoforte loudly where their sister played. "You must venture to play something more lively. Lord, I feel as though we are at a funeral rather than a party. A reel, perhaps?" Without waiting for a reply, Lydia stalked off with Kitty behind her to find partners for the next set. Mrs. Bennet loudly agreed with her favorite child, calling even more attention to poor Mary at the pianoforte.

Edward cringed as Mary missed several notes – now too flustered by the request of her younger sister and attention by her mother – to play correctly.

Charlotte noticed where Edward's attention strayed and gave him a small smile. "It does not seem like Miss Darcy is the only one who misbehaves in society."

The young Mr. Bennet huffed, knowing that there was truth behind Charlotte's words.

Sir William chose that time to approach Edward for the first time since his earlier greeting. "Edward!" His booming voice nearly caused the young man to jump. "Why do you not dance? There are many beautiful young ladies here who would be grateful to have you as a dance partner."

' _All but one perhaps_ ,' Edward thought to himself with a slight smile on his face.

It was at this time that Miss Darcy walked across the floor – intent on at least trying to pull Bingley away from his dance partner before he made an even bigger fool of himself. To say he was acting like a love sick puppy was putting it lightly. Frances could not stand the behavior he was displaying.

"Ah!" Sir William remarked as she attempted to walk past the two gentlemen conversing. "Miss Darcy, I believe young Edward would be honored to dance the next set with you. The two of you danced so wonderfully at the assembly, it was a capital performance indeed!"

Both persons in question blushed furiously at his words.

Darcy, unable to meet the young man's eyes after seeing him in such a _relaxed_ state earlier in the week, instead decided to address Sir William directly.

"I assure you, sir – I did not walk over here in search of a partner. I am merely on my way to have a talk with my friend."

"As your host it is my responsibility to make certain that you are enjoying yourself at all times," The man insisted. "Edward does not have a partner for the next set and I believe you would do well together."

Edward, no more eager to dance with Miss Darcy again than she was with him, acknowledged his duty as a gentleman. "It would be my honor to share the next set with you, Miss Darcy."

"As I said," She spoke sharply, her eyes still not meeting his own. "I am in no mood to dance. I thank you for the offer, but I most go consult with Mr. Bingley."

While Edward had in no way been eager to dance with her, he felt a slight disappointment in her rejection of his hand. Fighting against his own feelings, the young man shook it off and gave a rather befuddled Sir William a rueful smile. "It seems, Sir William – That I have been rejected once again."

Frances Darcy did not have the opportunity to hear Sir William's response. As she walked away, she tried desperately to control her pounding heart. What it was about the young man that bothered her so – she did not know – but it was something she had never felt so strongly before.

Caroline was already trying to talk to Bingley, but it seemed the young man was not hearing anything of it.

"Anne," She commented lowly, her eyes never leaving her brother and his love, who had decided to dance once again. "Surely there is something that can be done."

Frances made no response – still so effected was she by the exchange that had just taken place. She tried desperately to fight the desire to look back at Mr. Bennet, but it was a losing fight. Completely disregarding Caroline's attempts at conversation – she turned her head slowly, glancing in the direction of where he had last been and watched as he conversed with the eldest Miss Lucas.

He was happiness itself. Seeing such an expression upon one's face was unusual in her social circle, making it both unfamiliar and welcomed.

Though it was not the kind of happiness that Bingley always seemed to radiate, it was something special in and of itself. While Bingley was happy all the time without reason, the young Mr. Bennet's face seemed to light up with every joke and anecdote he exchanged with another. He enjoyed society and it was obvious in his manners as well as persona.

While he was not classically handsome, Frances had to admit that he had decent looks. His eyes – while they vexed her greatly for she still felt like he was in on some kind of joke that she was not a part of – were windows to his very soul and incredibly attractive indeed. He did not look like his elder sister, but he did not need to. While Jane's looks were her greatest asset, it seemed that Edward's was his personality.

Feeling herself in danger of paying the young man too much attention, Miss Darcy turned once again to watch as her friend danced with Miss Bennet. Caroline, seeing Frances' blush, smiled in slight victory under the assumption that her young friend was falling for her brother.

"I believe I know what you are thinking about."

While Darcy may have been out of sorts from her recent observations, she was not so far gone that she did not catch the insinuation behind Caroline's words. "Indeed, Caroline. I do not believe you do."

"Oh?"

"I was just meditating on the pleasure of which a pair of very fine eyes in the face of a handsome gentleman can bestow," Frances knew she was baiting the woman, but at this point she could not resist. The lady was absolutely relentless in her insistence that her friend marry her brother.

Taking the bait, Caroline smiled even wider. "Well, who could this gentleman be that you speak of?"

"Mr. Edward Bennet."

Caroline Bingley was so stunned – that it was believed she didn't speak more than two words for the rest of the night.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N:** _Here's another long chapter! I don't know whats gotten into me but whenever I have been sitting down to write, it seems like I end up writing more than I expected. Hope you guys don't mind! I wasn't going to post this chapter until tomorrow morning, but since I have gained several new followers today - I decided it would be a nice treat. Please continue reading and reviewing! As I have said before, reviews are truly such a blessing. The first thing I do in the morning is check my email to see if I have received any. You guys have been awesome so far and I'm glad your enjoying this story! I hope you like this chapter!_

 _austenauthoress_

* * *

 **Chapter 5**

Before leaving Lucas Lodge, Edward had been invited to hunt with the gentlemen at Netherfield. He broke his fast early that morning and was out of the house before anyone awoke.

Several hours later, the Bennets were all in a twitter over the events of the night before.

"It is obvious that Mr. Bingley is quite in love with you, Jane," Mrs. Bennet commented, spreading jam on her bread. "I would not be surprised if he proposed any day now." She had a self-satisfied smile resting on her features, almost as if she had already won.

"Mama, we have only been in company twice since meeting!"

"Men like him are eager to settle," The matron insisted, taking a bite out of her bread. Without even waiting to chew her food, Mrs. Bennet continued. "Your father had not known me for more than a few weeks before he offered for me."

"Yes," Mr. Bennet remarked from behind his newspaper. "And we all see how well matched we are." His sarcasm was not missed by his eldest, however it flew over the heads of the other girls.

Mrs. Bennet ignored her husband's comment. "I am willing to believe that Mr. Bingley invited Eddie to hunt with him this morning in hopes that he can gain him as an ally before he approaches your father." At such an idea, Jane blushed furiously. Mr. Bennet paused in the reading of his newspaper – fearful for a moment that the woman may be right – but continued once again a few moments later.

The youngest Bennet wasted no time in turning the subject to something she believed was more important. "Mama, if Jane gets married and moves to Netherfield – can I have her room?" Lydia asked loudly, drawing a gasp from Kitty.

"But I was going to ask for it!"

"Well, I asked first!"

"I was born first!"

As the girls bickered, Mr. Bennet set his newspaper aside. Despite the breakfast room being in absolute chaos, his expression remained neutral. He turned to Mary and took a sip of coffee. "Well, what do you say – my dear? Would you like Jane's bedroom?"

"No. I believe there is a passage in Fordyce's sermons that specifically states that – " Before Mary could even finish, Mr. Bennet held up his hand.

"I am sure I can fill in the blanks," The master of Longbourn then turned towards his oldest, who's face was flushed with embarrassment. Feeling sympathy for the poor girl who was being married off before a proposal had even been made, Mr. Bennet gave her an ironic smile. "Jane, do not worry. If such a young man were to approach me about anything other than a courtship at this time, I would surely turn him away."

"Oh, Mr. Bennet!" Mrs. Bennet exclaimed, temporarily distracted from the fight between her two youngest. "If it were left to you, our daughters would all become spinsters."

"Rather that than pressuring them into marriages they may not want, my dear," Though his words held a bit of humor – there was remorse there as well, his own situation born out of poor judgement. While Jane seemed to comprehend his meaning, the other ladies at the table continued with their arguments.

In the middle of breaking their fast, Hill interrupted them to announce that a letter had arrived from Netherfield. The entire room quieted as the envelope was passed to Jane out of the reliable housekeeper's hand.

Jane, who had believed that it was from Edward, was surprised to see unfamiliar handwriting. "It is from Caroline Bingley."

"Truly?" Mrs. Bennet nearly sprung up from her seat, her hands instantly reaching out to grab the note from her daughter. "What can it say?"

The eldest Miss Bennet drew the letter back, out of her mother's reach. After she had finished tearing open the envelope, her pale blue eyes scanned the paper carefully.

"She wishes for me to dine with the ladies of her party at high noon," Jane announced, near giddy with excitement from such an invite. "May I take the carriage?"

"The carriage?" Mrs. Bennet asked, looking at the weather outside. Quite unexpectedly, clouds had rolled in signaling that there would be a late autumn thunderstorm in the afternoon. Knowing that her son and the other men would have to return to Netherfield in the event of any rain, she had to come up with a way to keep Jane there longer.

"Mama?" Jane asked again, noting the far away look in the woman's eye.

"Absolutely not," Mrs. Bennet responded quickly, taking a sip of her tea. "No, you must go on horseback."

"But it looks as though it may rain soon and I already have a slight cold," Jane tried to reason with her mother, also taking note of the dark clouds developing in the sky outside the window. "To ride would be the best way to ensure that I end up chilled to the bone."

"All the more reason for them to make you stay. They will not send you home in such conditions and you will be forced to stay the night."

"You are quite the schemer when you choose to be, Mrs. Bennet," Her husband commented, a look of surprise evident on his features. "However Mr. Bingley has a carriage at his disposal and will surely send her home with Edward – storm or not."

"Well then he may do as he pleases," Mrs. Bennet tittered, setting her teacup back on its saucer. "However, you may not take the carriage as I will be using it to visit Mrs. Phillips. You will ride."

Both Mr. Bennet and Jane stared at the woman in disbelief. Jane looked at her father, but he simply gave a non-committal tilt of his head and rose to head to his bookroom. Jane, never one for conflict, quietly finished her breakfast so that she could start to Netherfield before the downpour began.

* * *

Frances walked into a near empty dining room. Only the footmen stationed on each side of the doors were present. While Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst usually took a while longer in the morning to break their fast than she, the men were usually already ploughing into their plates when she came down.

Darcy could not see keeping town times, like Bingley's sisters, when she was in the country. There was too much to do in a day than lazing around in bed. As she poured her coffee, she observed that the weather outside looked a bit ominous and that there would be no possibility of a ride that day.

It did not matter to her though, knowing that she had many other things she had to attend to. She was due to write a letter to Georgiana – filled with many descriptions of the land of Hertfordshire in an attempt to distract her from her lingering pain. Frances also needed to write to her steward, Mr. Franks, to enquire as to Pemberley's harvest. It had been many weeks now since they had harvested the crops and Darcy was waiting eagerly for the figures they had yielded with this season.

Quickly, she was able to finish her meal. After drifting up to her room to grab the required utensils she needed for writing her letters, she made herself comfortable in the western drawing room. Unfortunately for her, not an hour later, Caroline Bingley decided to come downstairs at an unusually early time.

"Good morning, Anne," She greeted, as the other young lady rose to curtsy. "It seems I have found you all alone."

"Yes," Frances remarked uneasily, returning to her seat. "Have you happened to hear what your brother is doing this morning to occupy his time?"

"Charles and my brother-in-law are hunting with Mr. Bennet," Caroline spoke the name with great distaste, sitting herself on a settee near the room's writing desk. "I assume they left early this morning in case the weather proved to be bad."

Caroline did not notice her companion's pen pause above the letter she had been writing.

"I have sent a note to Jane Bennet for her to dine with us later in the morning," The young lady continued as Frances resumed penning her letter. "With the weather the way it is, who is to say she will even show up."

Frances paused again, but this time due to the vindictiveness she heard in the other woman's tone. "Caroline," She remarked cautiously, turning in her chair to face her friend. "What are you insinuating?"

"All I am saying is that if she does not accept the invitation, it will be the first piece of evidence we will need to convince Charles that she is not interested," Caroline's pride over her idea was obvious. She sat up straighter and crossed her hands, thinking highly of herself as her plans took motion. "Of course, we will not have to do much given Jane's seeming indifference to him during their past two meetings."

Something about the way Caroline described sabotaging her brother's romance made Frances uncomfortable. While Frances did not want Bingley to end up with Jane – due to both her circumstances and her indifference – she did not feel right about using the eldest Miss Bennet so Illy to prove a point.

"Caroline," Frances began carefully, placing her pen back down on the desk. "I am not so sure about this plan of yours. If Jane Bennet is disinterested, which I think she is to an extent, it will show in her actions towards Charles. I highly doubt a declined invitation will say anything besides that her parents want to keep her out of a storm."

As Frances spoke these words, the housekeeper appeared with a letter in her hand. "From Longbourn, mum." She handed the envelope to Caroline and curtsied before taking her leave. Caroline ripped open the envelope, positive that a declined invitation lay inside. However, that was not the case.

"Well this was not expected," Caroline muttered, a sour look upon her features. "She has accepted."

Frances turned back to her letters, trying hard to hide the sardonic smile that made its way on to her face. She could hear Caroline fume for a few moments in frustration, before standing and taking her leave as well to go prepare for the unwanted visitor.

In the midst of writing a missive to her sister, Frances heard a rumble of thunder which drew her attention to the window. Finally, rain began to fall from the sky in sheets across the front lawn.

Shaking her head, Frances returned to her attention to the papers on the desk. Within a few minutes, she had finished penning the letters and had summoned the housekeeper to place them in the outgoing post pile for the next day.

Eventually, Mrs. Hurst and Miss Bingley came into the room – having been told by a footman that a carriage had been spotted down the lane. Lightning streaked across the sky, surprising all occupants in the room.

"What mother would send her child out in such weather?" Mrs. Hurst remarked, disbelief written across her features as a rumble of thunder rolled in response.

"Mrs. Bennet is desperate for her daughter to make a good match," Frances replied, moving from her seat to stand before the fire. "Of course she would not allow her daughter to turn down an invitation to dine at a rich, young man's house," She stated it as though it were obvious, her eyes falling on her hostess.

Caroline shifted in her seat at Frances' words but refrained from saying anything.

One of the footmen opened the doors, stepping inside with a hesitant look on his face. "Miss Bennet," He announced, standing to the side to allow the young woman to walk into the room. Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst rose from their seats to curtsy a greeting – however, nothing could have prepared them for the appearance of the eldest Miss Bennet.

The young lady stepped into the room, her pale blonde hair plastered to her face from the rain. Her dress was so damp, that the pale green fabric she wore had turned to a muted grey. As she walked, her dainty riding boots squeaked against the tile – each step causing water to fall from her person and on to the floor.

"Jane!" Caroline cried in obvious surprise. "What is the meaning of this?"

Jane Bennet tried desperately to reassure her hosts with a smile, but it soon turned into a grimace as she caught a chill. "Mama needed to use the carriage today so I was forced to ride."

The housekeeper brought a large blanket into the room and wrapped it around Jane's shoulders before ushering her to the settee before the fire. Frances moved from her spot as she also assisted the woman with her charge.

"Is there anything I can get for you, Miss Bennet?" The old housekeeper, Mrs. Abbott, asked in concern.

"All I require is a warm cup of tea," Jane remarked, smiling up at the woman despite the shivers that shook her body. The housekeeper nodded and hastily made her way out of the room.

The women sat in silence as they wondered what would be the best course of action. Jane – without anything to change into and of a very different body type than the three other women present – was obviously in a large amount of discomfort. When Mrs. Abbott returned with the tea, Caroline finally spoke on the issue.

"Dear Jane," Caroline remarked, her tone incredibly sweet. "Why did you not ask for us to send a carriage for you?"

Jane glanced at each lady in turn before bowing her head. "I am afraid that it just happened to slip my mind to do so. I thought that if I could ride fast enough, then I could get here before the storm started – but alas, it began to rain the moment I had mounted. I would never have dreamed of inconveniencing you."

"Not at all," Caroline insisted. "We would not have minded. I am afraid though you shall not be comfortable dining with us now in such condition."

"Oh no, I do not mind," The eldest Bennet stood from her place before the fire, wrapping the blanket tightly around her shoulders and over her soaked dress. "I was so honored to receive the invitation and desire nothing more than a warm meal."

"Shall we adjourn to the dining room, then?" Louisa Hurst asked, ushering the ladies out into the hall.

They all sat down to dine, Louisa and Caroline having not even broken their fast yet. Darcy was not hungry, but poured a cup of coffee for herself to enjoy while Caroline conversed with Jane Bennet. Jane – who had also already broken her fast - accepted the broth that a dedicated Mrs. Abbott brought to her upon request.

"I understand you have an uncle and aunt that live in town," Miss Bingley prompted, sipping on her tea and enjoying her biscuit.

"Yes, I do," Jane replied in the affirmative, a hesitant look appearing on her features. She was still shaking even with the blanket and broth warming her. Darcy feared that Caroline's interrogation would prove to be too much for the already uncomfortable young woman but Jane surprised her by rising to the occasion. "They are quite delightful relations. Edward and I spent a large portion of the summer season with them when we were children."

"Ah," Caroline said, feigning interest. "And what are their names?"

"Mr. and Mrs. Edward Gardiner."

"And where do they reside?" From the look on Caroline Bingley's face, it was safe to say that she already knew.

"On Gracechurch Street," Frances winced slightly at the name, knowing that having relations in trade was the last thing an eligible gentlewoman wanted to be bragging about while trying to find a suitor. Jane handled the situation well though and kept her head up even as Caroline and Louisa gasped as if they had not known the place of residence of the Bennet's relatives.

"In Cheapside?"

Jane nodded, her head dipping slightly. Darcy was becoming a little concerned with her color – she was as white as a sheet at this point – but assumed that it was from the not so subtle attack on her family.

"They must not be that upstanding of people then to be in trade," Caroline remarked, taking another sip of her tea. "Tradesmen are not the most welcomed in society," She said, assuming Jane would not understand the basic statures of the _ton_ even though she was a gentleman's daughter.

Frances watched all this uncomfortably, wishing that the rain had cleared up so she could ride rather than be stuck here in such an awkward situation. The storm outside though continued to rage on – the wind blowing wildly and causing the raindrops to pound against the glass. Surely, the men would be back soon and she could make her excuses.

Darcy had avoided looking at Jane during the last part of the conversation, knowing that surely the girl must be horrified at such bad manners coming from such well bred people – but again, Miss Bennet surprised her. She sat spooning the broth into her mouth, still shaking from her earlier ordeal. She seemed to be unbothered by her hostess' words.

However, it soon became obvious that there was a reason Jane remained unperturbed.

Frances was the first to notice that Jane was slightly swaying, her spoon left abandoned on the table along with her tea. From her seat next to her, Darcy watched as the young lady put a hand to her head as if to steady herself. Looking across at Caroline and Louisa she took note of their inattention to their guest.

They continued to dine in silence, the air tense due to the turn the conversation had taken earlier. The only sound in the room was that of their silverware against the glass plates and the rain hitting the window.

It wasn't long before Jane had to rest an elbow on the wood of the table, in an attempt to steady herself. While Caroline and Louisa looked on appalled at such a lack of manners, Frances jumped up from her spot and was immediately at the girl's side. She could almost feel the heat of fever rolling off of her.

"You there," Darcy pointed at one of the footmen standing to the side, instantly he straightened in attention. "Get someone to retrieve a doctor immediately. It seems Miss Bennet has taken ill."

Caroline stood, annoyed at such an inconvenience. "I say, Jane; I am still in shock that your family would allow you to ride all the way here in the rain. Now look at what has happened. Oh, where is Charles? Why has he not returned yet?"

Frances ignored the woman's useless prattle, helping Jane stand from her chair. "Miss Bennet, do you mind if we retrieve a maid to help assist in getting you upstairs?"

"I wish you would not," The sick girl commented weakly, trying desperately to stand on her own. "I do not wish to be a burden. I shall be fine in a moment."

But she was not – and seeing this, Francis gestured to Caroline. "You need to go get a maid who can help me with her. Also ask Mrs. Abbott to ready a room upstairs. I will retrieve one of my nightgowns from Sarah for her to wear so she is no longer in these wet clothes. Had we been proactive from the beginning, she would never have become so ill."

While it looked as though Caroline wanted to argue against being bossed around in her own house, one look from Frances had her following through with the orders. A maid soon returned and stood on Miss Bennet's other side as she and Frances attempted to get her out to the hall and up the stairs. Once they reached the top level, Mrs. Abbott directed them into a guest room in the left wing.

"I will be back with my maid," Frances told them as they settled Jane into a chair by a roaring fire. "I will give her one of my nightdresses to use."

True to her word, Darcy returned several minutes later with Sarah trailing behind her – a white nightgown in her arms. The servants imagined that Miss Darcy would leave after all orders had been followed through, but she remained as they dressed Jane and got her into the bed.

"You really need not do more, Miss," Mrs. Abbott insisted as Frances wrung out a rag over a bowl of cold water. "We can handle her until the doctor arrives."

"I do not mind," Frances insisted, placing the rag on the young woman's head. She was not surprised that Bingley's sisters had not shown up, knowing their indifference. It would not do if Miss Bennet was surrounded by people whom she had never seen before when she was in such a state.

Besides, Frances was used to taking control of situations. She was more comfortable dealing with this than putting up with the gossip that was surely being exchanged between Mrs. Hurst and Miss Bingley downstairs.

* * *

The men should have known that the weather would take such a turn – but, being men, they had ignored all the signs. They had bagged several birds before Edward even commented on the dark clouds in the distance.

"A little rain will not ruin our sport," Mr. Hurst insisted, riding ahead of his companions. Edward was surprised to find that the man suddenly came alive when not within the confines of an assembly room or manor.

"He's a very different picture from what you saw before," Bingley commented, noting the look of surprise on the young Mr. Bennet's face. "It seems like the hunt brings out the best in him. Whether we are hunting birds or foxes, he is no longer my inebriated brother-in-law."

"Some people do not relish in society," Edward commented wisely, reaching forward to pet his horse between the ears. "Not all can be easy in company."

"Miss Darcy often tries to tell me that," Charles remarked, glancing sideways at Edward. "I am afraid that as someone who truly enjoys society, it is hard for me to imagine such a distaste for it."

Edward nodded, turning his eyes back to the path in front of them. Even her name made him uneasy. If their had been a polite way to decline Mr. Bingley's offer of sport, he would have done so just so he could ensure that he would not have to be in her company again – but, unfortunately like many men, he could not turn down a good offer to take advantage of the outdoors. He just hoped when they returned, she would be busying herself in some other part of the house so he could take his leave peacefully.

Another reason he could not turn the offer down was because this was the perfect opportunity to learn what Mr. Bingley's intentions were in regards to his favorite sister. Trying to think of a way to bring it up casually, Edward continued on with the subject on hand.

"My sister and I enjoy society. More so than Mary anyway – I cannot speak for Kitty or Lydia though sometimes I wish I could to at least curb their tongues."

Bingley laughed at that, knowing exactly how the young man felt. "I feel that very often in relation to my sisters. Though they are both older than me, I feel as though they are younger."

"I often treat Jane as a younger sister, as well – even though she is older than me."

Charles Bingley was quiet for a moment, his eyes following the ominous clouds that seemed to be rolling in. Finally, he breathed out and began the conversation he had been meaning to have all morning. "I feel it is my job to assure you that I have honorable intentions in regards to your sister. While we have only met twice, it is as if I have known her forever."

Edward gave him a genuine smile. "I trust you, Mr. Bingley. You are exactly the kind of man I would like to see my sister with. I have no doubt you only have the sincerest of intentions in regards to Jane."

"Excellent!" Bingley's smile was so big that Edward could not help the large grin that broke out across his face as well. ' _Yes_ ,' he thought. ' _Jane and him will do nicely_.'

They continued to ride awhile longer, the only sounds between them that of the horses' breath. Hurst was still far ahead, though he slowed as the weather seemed to take a turn for the worse. The woods fell silent, the birds quiet in the moments before the storm. Bingley, not having much experience hunting or on a country estate, did not understand the sudden hesitation of his companions.

"Mr. Bennet," Bingley started, oblivious to Hurst's and Edward's disquiet over the silence. "If you don't mind me asking, does Jane happen to return my… – " He was not able to even finish the sentence as a streak of lightning cut across the sky and a rumble of thunder spooked the horses. Not but a few moments later, a torrential downpour began.

The three men did not even have to cordinate as they all turned their horses back in the direction of the estate.

The rain felt like pellets as they cut across the terrain. Edward was sure that he would have several scratches from the branches he had to scrape past – but he pressed on and kept up with his party. They had ridden out a decent way on the estate, making the return trip rather long in such conditions.

Whenever the stable came into view, it was almost as if they breathed a simultaneous sigh of relief.

There were stable hands there to receive the horses, helping their master and his guests off their mounts. While the horses were being taken care of, the men shook out their hair and removed their heavy riding jackets.

"Well," Bingley commented after several moments of shuffling, running a hand through the damp, blonde locks plastered across his forehead. His hat had fallen off during the vigorous ride, leaving him vulnerable to the elements. "I was not expecting such a storm. A rain perhaps, but not a downpour."

Edward threw his hat to the side, the rain having seeped through the fabric and dampening his hair. "We have late autumn storms from time to time. Though I have not seen one this bad in several years."

As they continued to adjust the wet articles of clothing they all sported, it was decided that running to the house – which was quite a good distance away – would just prove to get them even wetter than they were now.

"We may as well wait it out," Bingley advised, sitting in a chair that one of the stable hands had retrieved for him. "By the time we reach the house, we will all be soaked to the bone and battling fevers. It seems like the rain may be letting up."

As he said this, a clap of thunder followed a rather violent streak of lightning that was a bit too close for comfort. Edward was hesitant but eventually sat as well. He would have preferred to return to a warm house instead of the stables, but he knew that the moment he ran to the house and got himself soaked in the process – the skies would clear and there would be sunshine. It was not worth chancing a cold when the stables were so warm.

The men sat there silently for at least an hour before there was a commotion at the front of the stable. Bingley, standing up and assuming his role as master, inquired as to what the problem was.

"It seems that a lady visiting has taken ill, sir," The damp servant explained, itching to hop on a horse and complete his duty. "I am off to retrieve the doctor."

"Who is the lady?" Charles asked in concern, Edward now listening as well.

"She is from Longbourn, that is all I know sir," The man supplied as a horse was brought to him. He bowed to his master and the other gentlemen before hastily mounting the animal and taking off in the direction of Meryton.

"Jane!" Edward exclaimed in distress, not even picking up his jacket and hat as he ran from the stable. Something told him it was eldest sister who was sick, it had to be. Bingley was not far behind him as they made a mad dash up the path.

The rain was still falling relentlessly, but neither man took much notice of it. They reached the back entrance of the house, bursting through the doors, scaring a maid in the process. Paying her no mind, Edward continued down the hall with Bingley following him closely.

Caroline and Louisa stood in the front hall, presumably awaiting the arrival of the gentlemen. They were surprised when two very wet and very underdressed men walked into the foyer using the back entrance.

"Charles!" Caroline Bingley exclaimed upon seeing her brother.

"Where is Miss Bennet?" Bingley asked, forgetting to bow to his sister in greeting.

"She was just taken upstairs," Louisa explained, eyeing Mr. Bennet with disapproval. "She rode all the way here and has fallen ill."

"Quite irresponsible if you ask me, Charles," Caroline Bingley was commenting as Edward ran up the stairs to aid his sister. Unimpressed by his disregard to manners, the mistress of the house glared up at him. "These Bennets are positively without mind or manners."

Edward ignored her comments, not caring two figs what Bingley's sister thought of him. She had the audacity to say that he was without manners when she was the one with a sick guest who was currently being ignored as the ladies of the house stood around the foyer. No, Miss Bingley had _no_ business talking about manners.

He did not have a hard time finding Jane, her room being the first at the entrance of the left wing. A maid was just coming through the door when she saw the very damp Mr. Bennet. Jumping a bit in surprise at the sight, the girl then hastened down the hall to continue with her tasks.

Edward did have the mind to knock, but he was not very patient. He did not have to wait long before Mrs. Abbott answered the door. Recognizing him near instantly, the lady ushered him into the room. It was against propriety, but it seemed like all parties were not concerned about it in that moment. She then left to prepare a room for the wet young man.

The first thing Edward noticed when he entered the room was a very sick Jane lying abed on the far side of the room. "Oh Jane," He murmured, quickly crossing to where his sister was resting. He grabbed her hand which was hanging off the bed. She did not move in response, her lack of awareness worrying him.

Apparently, his anxiety was evident upon his features. For before he could ask, Frances Darcy spoke from her spot next to the bed. "Do not worry, she is sleeping now."

Edward had not even noticed her when he had entered the room, but there she sat. When he turned to her, he was shocked to find that seeing her in this environment brought back the memory of his dream many nights before. Here, in the soft candlelight with a fire crackling distinctly in the background, she looked as she had when she had come to him in his dream. Though her hair was twisted behind her head – all curls in place – and her dress was made of deep navy rather than a nightgown, he could not shake the image from his mind.

Realizing he had not responded, he gave a shallow nod of acknowledgement. "She is warm." He stated flatly, his sister's hand in his feeling like a furnace under his cold touch.

"She has a fever," Frances replied simply, standing from her chair to retrieve a fresh wet cloth to place on Jane's forehead. "We are trying our best to keep it down. The doctor may have a remedy we can give her that will help control it."

Edward did not comment on how strange it was to find her by his sister's bedside, but remained silent as he turned back to face Jane. Her cheeks were pale and her breathing slightly labored.

Frances tried desperately to stay calm as the man stood, wearing an expression of genuine concern for his sister. She was familiar with that look – for it was the same one she gave Georgiana even after all these months had passed since her near elopement. To see the man caring so deeply for his elder sister, had her heart trembling.

But what unnerved her more – was not these profound feelings he seemed to invoke in her – but the memories he was bringing back to her due to his dress and their environment. Frances had tried desperately to forget the dream from the first night of their meeting and she had tried even harder to forget the day she had witnessed him swimming while he thought he was alone – but nothing seemed to work.

Here he now stood, his hair in disarray and clothes damp – yet she felt the same emotions she had in the dream. Even with muddy boots and a positively wild look about him, there was something within her that called out for him.

Knowing that she was in an incredible amount of danger now, she could do nothing but remove herself from the situation.

"Sarah," Darcy spoke to her own personal maid, who still remained in the room along with another servant in case they were in need of anything. "Keep watch over Miss Bennet until the doctor arrives."

And with that, she left the room.

Edward stared after her, thoroughly confused by her behavior. She had seemed so calm when he had entered, did she really detest his company so much that she could not handle being in the same room as him? Well, the feelings were mutual, if so. Attraction to her was one thing, but it was a whole other thing to enjoy her company.

"Eddie?"

The young man was broken from his thoughts by his sister, who looked up at him with bleary eyes. He smoothed his thumb over the top of her hand in comfort, sitting down on the side of the bed – careful not to jostle her.

"Jane," He whispered, his voice low. "Why did you ride here? Why did you not take the carriage?"

"Mama said that if I rode here and it began to rain, they would have no choice but to offer to let me stay."

Edward glanced at the two maids, standing by the wall. He hoped neither of them had heard what Jane said – but Edward could not read their expressions.

"And you did not argue with her? She has compromised your health, my dear."

"I insisted on taking the carriage, but she said that she had use of it," Jane explained, her voice hoarse. The words were shaky as the fever caused a chill to run through her body. "Papa I think did not want me to ride, but he said nothing. It was not worth starting an argument with mama."

The man sighed, disappointed with his family's disregard for Jane's health – all in the name of capturing Mr. Bingley.

"Dear Jane," Edward murmured affectionately, brushing a hand over her damp curls. "If only I had been there. I would not have allowed such an event to transpire."

Jane smiled sleepily, her hand squeezing his gratefully.

Edward glanced over at the maids stationed near the door, lowering his voice once again. "Do not worry about Mr. Bingley," The man reassured her, a smile finding its way on to his features. "I believe he is absolutely taken with you."

Jane's smile widened at his words, a blush appearing on her cheeks that did not appear to be from her fever.

* * *

The doctor soon arrived – a bit miffed at having been brought out during the rain. The moment he entered the room, Sarah took her leave to return to her mistress' dressing room.

When she got there, she was surprised to find Miss Darcy sitting at her vanity – waiting for her.

"The doctor has arrived?"

"Yes," Sarah replied, hesitantly. "However, I am afraid that is not what I have come to tell you." Darcy's brows furrowed at the girl's words. She said nothing though, waiting for her maid to continue. "Miss Bennet did mention that her mother had planned on this happening. Perhaps not the illness part of it, but she forced her to ride in hopes that the Bingleys would not send her home in such weather."

Frances shook her head, lips pursed unhappily. So, they had been right. This all had just been an elaborate plan to trick Bingley into marriage.

"Fortune hunters," Darcy murmured with distaste, not aware that Sarah had heard her words.

"I do not think Miss Bennet was keen to the plan, mum," Sarah hurriedly assured her. "I think it was the mother that put her up to it."

"Yes, but she followed her mother's plan regardless of its intentions," Frances stood, pacing back and forth. "That makes her no better than the woman herself. Does she even hold any affection for Mr. Bingley? Or is she simply settling for him because of his fortune and a duty to her family?"

Sarah remained silent – not really knowing what to say to her mistress. She was not used to getting such a response out of her.

Frances sighed, pausing in her pacing to turn towards her maid. "We will not stop in our treatment of her. I know that Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst will not be assisting with anything and I cannot allow someone's health to be compromised while I am in residence. I will be speaking to Mr. Bingley however over what we have heard."

With that being said, Frances exited her dressing room and entered the hall – intent on warning her friend of the young, country girl's intentions.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N:** _Thank you for your reviews and follows! Things are starting to pick up and I'm so excited to finally be at this part of the story. I am still trying to decide some of the major plot points that come after these next two chapters. I have only planned up until Chapter 7 and Chapter 8 because I wanted to see what the reader's response was. I am, however, going to try tomorrow to sit down and map out EVERYTHING that will be happening up until the very end. I already know how I want the story to come together, like I have a scene in my head that has been stuck there since the idea arose, but I don't know what's going to lead up to that. I am trying to follow Pride and Prejudice, but a perfect retelling would be boring. I wanted to add a little more romance and I think that since Elizabeth (Edward) in this canon acknowledges her attraction to Darcy and understands it due to being male and a bit more "worldly," it makes it a whole different experience. But anyways, this should be exciting! Remember to review, they honestly make my day! Even if it is short and sweet, it means so much to me! It makes me truly want to write more and hypes me up even more than I am already!_

 _austenauthoress_

* * *

 **Chapter 6**

After he had checked in on Jane,Edward had been given a room to refresh himself and dry off. He had just started washing the dirt and grime off his skin at the washbowl, when a knock at the door drew his attention away from the task.

"Enter," He called, quickly drying his face off with a towel. After his earlier foray through the foyer, there was really no point in trying to look presentable – but try he did.

It was Charles Bingley, dry after their ride through the rain and dressed in a new set of clothing. "I just wanted to tell you that I have already sent for yours and your sister's belongings to be sent over here. The Doctor has just told us that he does not want Miss Bennet to be moved and I assumed that you would not wish to be parted from her."

Edward, still in his damp clothes from the morning, wanted nothing more than some dry articles to change into. "Thank you, sir – for your hospitality. By chance, did the doctor say more?"

Bingley looked hesitant, stepping nervously into the room so that he could close the door behind himself. "He did. Apparently, she is suffering from a particularly bad cold. He says her fever is higher than it should be, but that she should recover in a few days. The maid attending her was given some medicine to hopefully lower the fever. There is not much else he could do for her though."

The concerned younger brother nodded – happy that his sister was going to be okay, but concerned by the severity of her symptoms. Bingley noticed his worry. "Perhaps I should send for your moth – " Edward was shaking his head before Bingley could even get the words out. His mama would only make this situation worse.

"That is not necessary," He assured him, coming forward to shake the man's hand. "You have already done much more than was required. My sister and I are grateful to you."

Bingley gave the young man a firm handshake. "I am happy to be of service," He turned from the room, walking towards the door. He seemed to remember something before he took his leave and spun around. "The servant shall not take long to retrieve some attire for you to change into – is there anything else I can have brought to you until he returns?"

"No," Edward smiled, impressed by Bingley's ease as a host. While the young man was so hesitant about most things – displaying pleasing manners came to him easily it seemed. "I am sure I will be content."

Bingley nodded once more, before exiting the room.

"That was nicely done, Bingley," Frances remarked as he stepped into the hall, having been listening to his conversation with his guest. "Although I am not sure it was wise to allow the Bennets to stay, I must say hosting will give you the practice you need to become a diligent master."

Bingley's chest swelled with pride, Darcy's praise meaning more to him than anyone else's of his acquaintance. He had watched her grow into a respectable mistress – poised, involved, and knowledgeable – that to be paid such a compliment by her was a great thing. While he was her elder by four years, he was grateful to have any guidance she offered. Even though he was choosing to ignore her judgment of the Bennets

They had already had a short conversation about the state of that situation earlier after the doctor had gone in to check on Jane.

She had found him in his study and had immediately shared what her maid had overheard while assisting Miss Bennet in her room. While Charles was most definitely upset to hear of Mrs. Bennet's plans, he laid none of the blame on Jane.

"I must allow them to be guests in my home," He insisted, though Frances could see an inkling of doubt on his features. "Just because their mother may be mercenary – which I am not entirely sure she is; she is a lovely woman to be sure – it does not make them so."

"Bingley, the last thing I wish to see happen to you is to be trapped by a fortune hunter," Frances shared, pain evident in her tone. She had rescued Georgiana from such a man and she would not allow Bingley to make the same mistake her sister almost did. "I warn you to be cautious and try not to show her too much interest until you know where her loyalties lie."

The young man had perked up at her words. "So you would approve if she proved to be un-mercenary and genuinely in love with me?"

"Absolutely not," Frances said, turning her back to him as she looked out the window. "Regardless of her intentions, her family is not appropriate for the lifestyle you want to lead. "

"But I would not be marrying her family," Bingley tried to reason, walking over to where she stood. "What they are like is of no consequence to me."

"Yes, well I would hope you would be able to say that in several years when your widowed mother-in-law surely comes knocking on your door," And with those words, Frances had taken her leave.

She had not meant to listen in on his conversation with Mr. Bennet, however when she had passed by the door and heard the voices of both men, she had paused. She told herself it was to coach Bingley on the kind of manners a master must have towards his guests – but at the sound of Edward's voice, deep with concern, she had begun to question _her_ intentions.

"I hope he did not believe me to be too assumptive by ordering a servant to bring their belongings without asking," Bingley worried as they continued down the hall, in the direction of Jane's bedroom. "I would hate for Jane and her brother to believe me to be controlling."

Frances wanted to comment that it truly did not matter what the two thought of him given their own family's behavior – but she held her tongue. "It is your job as master to make decisions based on the welfare of those under your care. The doctor insisted you not move Miss Bennet and you knew that Mr. Bennet would not wish to be separated from his sister."

"So I made the right call?" Bingley asked, still unsure in his ability as host after living with his elder sister for the past several years in her own home.

"Our definitions of right seem to be opposing at the moment," Frances muttered, but knowing how Bingley took everything to heart, she quickly lightened her tone. "But as a host – you have done your duty well, indeed."

They separated then – Bingley going downstairs to wait for the servant to return with his guests' items and Frances to check in on Miss Bennet once more before retiring to her rooms for some time spent in the company of a good book and fire.

* * *

A few hours later, Edward was readying himself for dinner. Though he would have preferred taking a tray in Jane's room to watch over her as she slept, his host had insisted on his presence at dinner. With several maids watching over his sister, he figured it would be better to respect the wishes of his host.

He looked in the mirror and was satisfied with what he saw. He was no longer wet, having traded his damp clothing for the dry attire Mr. Bingley's servant had brought from Longbourn. He wore a simple, forest green coat with white shirtsleeves underneath. While he wore a cravat, the knot was unsophisticated – due to the fact that he did not have a man servant to attend him and because he had always hated cravats anyway. He also wore a light pair of pants with his still dirty riding boots.

Unfortunately, the man had forgotten to pack of pair of boots for him so he had to make due with the old ones. Luckily, they had dried enough not to leave marks behind him as he walked across the floor. Edward shrugged at his reflection, knowing that the Bingley sisters were likely to throw a fit over his footwear, but he had no alternative. After one more look over, Edward was out the door. He checked in on a sleeping Jane one last time before starting down the stairs.

Netherfield was grand and he had only been in it a handful of times before. Due to his limited knowledge of the layout of the house, he did not exactly know where the sitting room was where he was supposed to be waiting for the rest of the party.

He heard familiar voices coming from down the hall, so he decided to see where they led him. Approaching what he supposed was the library, he paused outside the door.

"Bingley," He could hear Miss Darcy's voice say. "It is your turn."

There was silence for a moment, before a sigh of frustration could be heard. "Darcy, you know I don't have the patience for this game. I would much rather be playing cards."

Edward heard another sigh, this time coming from Miss Darcy. "I am surprised you did not find yourself playing this much in university. Young men are always looking for an opportunity to best each other at chess. It is a show of mental strength."

Bingley groaned, but otherwise remained silent. He apparently made another move, but it was not a satisfying one for Miss Darcy.

"Now Bingley, you know that was a cheap move."

"I give up," The young man finally conceded. "I would much rather be out of doors than sitting at a chess table."

"Checkmate," Darcy remarked, the sound of a piece being knocked over meeting Edward's ears. He chose that moment to make his entrance to the room, no footmen present to announce his arrival.

The library was spacious, with shelves covering each wall of the room. There was a fire lit with a settee and two high-backed chairs in front of it to keep a reader warm as they perused a book. Mr. Hurst was already taking advantage of one of the chairs, a glass of port in his hand. There was also a maid, acting as a chaperone for Miss Darcy, stationed against the wall.

Miss Darcy and Mr. Bingley looked up from their place at the chess table. Upon seeing the guest, they both rose to their feet to curtsy and bow respectively.

"Mr. Bennet," Bingley greeted him, a large smile on his face. "How does your sister do?"

"Not very well, sir," Edward remarked, glad to see the concern that suddenly appeared on the man's face. "However, your staff is caring prodigiously for her."

"I believe you have Miss Darcy to thank for her welfare," Bingley said, gesturing to the young woman who stood beside him. "She is the one that called for the doctor and has been volunteering her personal maid to assist with Miss Bennet."

Edward was surprised to hear this. Of all the people in the house he thought would be willing to help his sister, Miss Darcy was the last. Her disapproval of him and his family had been evident, but she had been the one sitting in with his sister earlier when he had arrived.

Was it possible that he may have misjudged her?

"I thank you, Miss Darcy," Edward bowed his head, his tone genuine. "I am sure my sister appreciates your care." The lady gave him a slight nod of acknowledgement but said no words. ' _Ah_ ,' he thought, ' _There is the uptight Miss Darcy_.'

Bingley, noticing the tension, ushered his guests from the room and down to where the ladies were waiting for them.

Dinner was a pleasant enough affair. Though Caroline Bingley threw verbal barbs at Edward all throughout the meal, he was witty enough to deflect each one without coming off as rude or a bad guest. Every minute, his esteem was growing for Mr. Bingley – though his opinion of the sisters seemed to be declining every time they opened their mouths. Bingley was obviously very honest and genuine in all he did, and his cheerful disposition very much reminded Edward of his sister.

Miss Darcy continued to be an enigma. But at this point in time, Edward expected nothing less from her. While he had been impressed with her care for Jane and her apparent skill at chess, he could not say her manners were improving with time. In fact, she seemed to treat him colder than usual while they dined. While he tried not to allow it to bug him, he could not keep his eyes from drifting to her every once and awhile to gage her reactions.

After the meal, he returned upstairs to check on Jane – giving the Netherfield party a chance to talk about their guests freely.

"Why you are associating yourself with a family who has an uncle in Cheapside and one in law, I do not know," Caroline ranted, pacing back and forth across the drawing room floor as everyone else tried to busy themselves. "But what I do know is that this must stop the moment they leave our doorstep."

"I could care less if they had a dozen uncles residing in Cheapside," Charles remarked, sitting down at the table to start a game of loo. "Honestly, Caroline. I am disappointed in you. You said yourself Miss Bennet was a nice girl."

His sister glared at him, her arms crossing tightly across her chest. "While Miss Bennet may be a nice girl, that in no way implies that I believe she is right for you. You could find someone with much more consequence and manners than that entire family has combined." At this, Caroline tilted her head towards Darcy – who was sitting at the writing desk across the room, penning another letter to her younger sister.

Frances could feel the eyes of the room turn to her, but she refused to acknowledge them. Her pen did not even pause upon her paper.

Charles shook his head. "Caroline, this is not about connections or advantages."

Darcy did pause at this, turning in her chair. "It has everything to do with that Charles. For that is what sets apart an actual respectable young woman from a fortune hunter. Mrs. Bennet sent Miss Bennet over here today with one purpose in mind; to trap you in a marriage. If you do not believe me, you may ask my maid or even the one of yours you have stationed in Miss Bennet's room. They heard it from her directly."

Bingley faltered, but quickly recovered. "What your maid heard was only Mrs. Bennet's intentions, not Miss Bennet's."

"They are one in the same, Bingley," Frances remarked, turning back to the letter she had been writing. "Any young girl in her situation is sure to follow her mama."

The room went silent, though Frances could tell Miss Bingley was probably wearing a smug smile. The worst part about opposing against Bingley in this matter, was the fact that now she was suddenly allied with Bingley's sisters. She had thought she had only been coming here to assist him with the estate when now she was having to protect him from making mistakes she had all too much experience with.

"I guess the display given this morning by Mr. Bennet has changed your opinion regarding his eyes, Anne" Miss Bingley remarked, rather daring after having the young heiress champion her side of the argument. "And did you see his boots at dinner? They were covered in at least six inches of mud."

Louisa agreed with the estimation, hiding her smile behind her fan.

Frances knew that Miss Bingley was waiting for her to insult Mr. Bennet, once again proving to Charles how little she thought of the Bennets, but she was not going to give her that satisfaction.

"No, in fact, I believe his eyes were brightened by the exercise."

Miss Bingley had no response to that.

Mr. Bennet soon returned with a book in hand. Bingley, Hurst, and the two Bingley sisters had just sat down to play another game of loo when he made his entrance.

"Mr. Bennet," Bingley called from his side of the table, gesturing to an unused chair. "Care to join us for a game?"

Edward smiled politely before sitting on one of the sofas before the fire. "No, I thank you. I would much rather read than play cards."

Mr. Hurst thought this was hogwash indeed. "You prefer reading to cards? How singular!"

Edward made no comment, opening his book and picking up where he had just left off.

"My brother and I have recently been discussing accomplishments, Mr. Bennet," Caroline Bingley said, distracting the man from his reading. "Regarding young women, of course."

Edward glanced up from his book, annoyed at being interrupted but too polite to show it. "And what conclusion have the two of you come to?"

Charles almost said that he had had no such conversation with his sister, when Caroline speedily answered the young man's inquiry. "Well that a truly accomplished woman must be in possession of a certain set of talents."

"And these would be?"

"A woman must have a thorough knowledge of music, singing, drawing, dancing, and the modern languages, to deserve the word; and besides all this, she must possess a certain something in her air and manner of walking, the tone of her voice, her address and expressions, or the word will be but half-deserved," Miss Bingley said surely, a smug look crossing her features. "These are the things that set truly accomplished women apart from simple country girls." When she said these words – her eyes went from Miss Darcy to Mr. Bennet.

Edward understood the message she was sending. It was obvious she was comparing the very 'accomplished' Miss Darcy and herself to his sister, who she claimed was nothing more than a country nobody. While Edward noted that everyone in the room tensed at the implication, he snapped his book shut before leaning forward in his chair.

"I am surprised, Miss Bingley," Edward laughed, enjoying the affronted look on her features. "That is quite a lengthy list you provide. I suppose you have forgotten to mention chess as another interest she must have. For what is an accomplished woman, without a mind?"

The man had meant to criticize Miss Bingley's lack of interest in intellectual pursuits – but it resonated more with Frances who misinterpreted his words. While Edward knew that Miss Bingley surely did not spend her time sitting around and playing chess, he did not realize that Darcy would take that as a compliment towards herself.

 _'Does he mean me?'_ She was surprised at such a bold statement. _'Is he saying that he finds me to be accomplished?'_

She was forced to remind herself that his opinion should not matter to her – however, it was rare that such a man came forth in her society. While Bingley hardly ever acknowledged that she was a part of the female sex, due to his admiration of her person that had no ties to her gender – it was no secret that most young men of the town regarded her as a threat.

Perhaps threat was too large of a word. While many eligible men approached her – the considerable wealth she was in possession of being quite an enticement for any ambitious gentleman – since she rarely showed any interest in them, they instead talked about her as though she was a revolutionary just because she had chosen to take control of her lands once she came of age.

All the activities she enjoyed around Bingley, such as estate talk and chess playing, she could not participate in when in company with anyone else. To participate in anything deemed masculine as a woman – was a huge breach in propriety.

For Mr. Bennet to be of the opinion that chess playing and cultivating one's mind was not something that was gender exclusive, was a pretty radical ideal. Mr. Bingley soon broke into the conversation in agreement.

"Indeed! Accomplishments are born of opinion."

Edward smiled at his words, growing to like Mr. Bingley more and more as time went on. "That is true. Wise is the man who marries a woman whom he can truly esteem and converse with. Misguided is the simpleton who marries a woman because she can paint a table and recite his menu in French."

Miss Bingley's lips pursed. "Are you implying that accomplishments do not matter? That is quite a radical view for a country gentleman to have."

"I am not saying that, Miss Bingley. You misinterpret my words," Edward threw her another smile, his tone light. "I am simply trying to say that no accomplishment is worth much if a woman does not have a mind behind it. Any young woman can learn a language, but only a few can put meaning behind the words they speak."

Darcy had to turn back towards the writing desk at Edward's words, the expression on Miss Bingley's face too much for her to handle. She could not fight the smile that appeared on her features.

The room was silenced, the game of loo completely abandoned in light of the conversation that had just taken place. Soon, Edward had excused himself from the party in order to check on his sister before he retired to bed. Not more than a few seconds after he had left the room, Caroline sat down in a huff.

"I cannot believe he considers himself a gentleman," Miss Bingley remarked, turning her gaze to Miss Darcy. "Surely you do not agree with his ideals, Anne? If this has done nothing to taint your view of him than I do not know what will. Perhaps if he pledged to Napoleon that would change your opinion."

Frances, uncomfortable with being called out, stood with her letter in hand. "I do not believe finding a man's eyes to be fine means that I have a high opinion of him. While I believe his ideals have some merit, it does not matter. Now – if you will excuse me – I believe I will retire for the night."

* * *

After everyone had turned into bed, Netherfield's quiet was disrupted by feverish moans and sounds of disquiet.

Edward was grateful that the housekeeper had provided him with a room close to his elder sister's. He had been asleep for several hours when he was awoken by the sounds. The moon shone brightly outside of his window, signaling that it was still night. He was confused for a moment as to what had disturbed him from his slumber, but was soon on his feet when he heard the distressed moans.

He barely had the mind to grab his dressing gown before racing out the door. He was at Jane's door before the clock below stairs could tick three times.

"Jane!" He crashed through the door, his mind still foggy from sleep. It took a moment for his eyes to adjust to the dim light in the room, but he wasted no time in rushing to his sister's side. She was thrashing on the bed, her skin pale and expression pained – he could see she was trying to fight against the fever. Panicked, he grabbed for her hand.

"Mr. Bennet," He heard a voice command from behind him, the familiarity of the tone taking a moment to register within his jumbled mind. "Please, sir. We are trying to keep her cool."

It was Miss Darcy. She was clad in only a nightgown and robe with a rag held in her hand meant for his sister. Not really knowing what to say, the young man stepped to the side so she could continue with her task. Diligently, she placed the piece of cloth against Jane's feverish forehead.

The maid who had been stationed in his sister's room earlier was absent – however, he did recognize the other one from the morning. She averted her eyes as she walked up to the bed to assist Miss Darcy – a cool rag in her hand, which she used to pat at the skin of the eldest Miss Bennet's neck and arms.

As the cool compresses were applied to her, Jane seemed to quiet. Edward breathed a quiet sigh of relief at this. Though she continued to murmur, they were not the distressed cries of earlier.

Suddenly, realizing the impropriety of the entire situation, Edward found himself blushing. His blush only grew as he closely looked over the usually well put together Miss Darcy and her attire.

Just as it had earlier, seeing Miss Darcy in such an environment made the events of his dream come back to mind. Except this time, she very much looked like she had when she had come to him. While her hair was braided down her back, the nightgown and robe she wore was one of white satin. The soft glow of the candlelight, provided him a very fine image of her figure and had he not been so set against her from the beginning, it may have brought him to his knees.

But when she turned to him, he saw the same cold and haughty Miss Darcy.

"It is very improper of you to be here, sir," She censured him, her words quiet but clear.

While Edward had just acknowledged how inappropriate it was of him to be in his sister's room with a young lady dressed in no more than her nightclothes, something in her tone had him on the defensive.

"This is my sister's room," He insisted, crossing his arms tightly over his chest. "I have every right to be here in times of her distress. I did not stay at Netherfield for the enjoyment of your fine company, I assure you. I am here for Jane."

While he had kept his tone light to keep his words coming out as harsh, the meaning was still clear. She had no authority to keep him from his sister's room.

Mildly affronted, Frances turned back to her patient. She picked up the rag and – without another word to him – carried it over to the bowl of cool water resting on the nightstand. Although his words had been quite forceful, the young lady could not deny that should it have been Georgiana in Miss Bennet's position, she would have acted the same way.

The occupants of the room went about their tasks in silence, only the soft moans of discomfort coming from Jane breaking the tension. While Edward knew he had every right to help his sister, he did not understand why he felt so uneasy. It did occur to him that it was because _she_ was there, but he would never admit that Miss Darcy made him uncomfortable. That's exactly what she wanted to do and he was determined to not give her that satisfaction.

"Why are you awake, Miss Darcy?" He could not help but ask, genuinely perplexed by her diligent care of his sister. She was in the middle of readying another rag to replace with the one on Jane's forehead – her nightgown now damp from how many trips she had made to the washbowl.

Darcy seemed to startle from her thoughts at his question.

"I could not sleep," She admitted, though her eyes would not meet his. She was not going to admit that his presence in the house had unsettled her so terribly, that she could not seem to sleep. After she had tossed and turned for several full rotations of the clock, she had decided to check in on Miss Bennet.

Edward nodded, as if her words had answered his question. Not desiring to have any more conversation with her, he did not push the subject.

Jane had calmed, her sleep not so restless as it had started out. Her skin still burned with fever, but they seemed to have it under control. Finally, realizing there was nothing he could do for his sister, he stood from where he had been sitting on the edge of the bed.

"I shall take my leave of you ladies," Edward announced as he walked towards the door, pausing a moment to bow at the women who were tending to his sister. "Thank you for your attentions to Jane. I bid you a good night."

If he had expected a reply from Miss Darcy, he was not going to get it. While the lady gave him a proper curtsy – quite a ridiculous movement when in a nightgown, mind you – her lips remained pursed and she turned directly back to her patient.

Her behavior annoyed Edward, especially after he had tried so hard to remain civil around her. But he said no more. Walking back to his room, he desired nothing more than a good night's rest.

He had thought going back to sleep would be easy – but it was not. Earlier, he had been exhausted after a long day of hunting and worrying over his sister, but now he was incredibly agitated. While he was not surprised by Darcy's behavior any longer – now being well acquainted with her silence and hauteur – he could not understand why his body refused to stop responding to her.

All she had to do was look at him in the candlelight and he began to sweat. But _why_? Why was he so attracted to this young lady who seemed to be so cold? Never mind the fact that she did not feel anything in return for him, but he did not even _like_ her. She was silent unless talking to those of her class and, while she may be intellectual, she did not smile or laugh. How could a woman who obviously took no joy from life attract him so much?

Burying his face in his pillow, Edward released a long moan. His baser instincts were beginning to impair his judgement and that was the last thing he could allow. His first priority needed to be his sister's health and a close second was making sure Bingley understood Jane's sentiments and how they did not align with his mother's.

Finally, he was able to shut his eyes and fall asleep.

* * *

After Edward Bennet had left the room, Frances was able to breathe again. Continuing with her task of toweling Miss Bennet's forehead, Darcy tried desperately to try and distract herself from the young man that resided only a few steps down the hall.

"Miss Darcy," Sarah whispered, coming to stand by her mistress. "Do not worry any longer, I will take care of her. Dawn will be here and you will have not slept a wink."

While Frances wanted to remind her maid who her superior was in this situation – she realized the girl was right. She would not be in her right mind tomorrow if she had no sleep. She had promised Bingley that she would look over his account books with him in the morning and she could not do that if she slept half the morning away.

So, with a small curtsy, Frances finally returned to her room. A glance outside showed that it was still night, the moon high in the sky and glowing over the dark countryside. The serene view – a picture that seemed to come directly out of a painting – did much to settle her nerves. However, it did little to calm the still rapid beating of her heart.

Climbing back into her bed and arranging her sheets, the girl tried to clear her mind long enough to fall asleep. But all she could see when she closed her eyes was Edward Bennet, clad in only his nightshirt and robe, with arms that seemed to beckon to her. The warm pool that usually gathered in her stomach whenever she thought back to that dream the first night of their meeting made her uncomfortable.

 _'What does this all mean?'_

He had paid her such a compliment earlier when he spoke to Miss Bingley, surely he was not getting any designs on her? The thought set off another round of nerves. She could never accept such a man, especially with the kind of family that he came from.

' _No_ ,' She thought, rolling over on to her side, ' _He is probably playing the same game as his sister. Trying to make an advantageous marriage to improve his estate and possibly provide for his family._ ' While the intentions seemed honorable, she knew enough of men to know that most of the time, wealth did not go towards the bettering of one's property but instead on women and drink.

Of course, Mr. Bennet had already proven that he was not like other men. His care for his sister and his interest in women who preferred intellectual pursuits made him radically different from the men of the _ton_. Would he use such money so wastefully?

With another frustrated sigh, Frances turned on to her back and stared up at the canopy over her bed. Hours later, this was the same position she was in when the sun peaked up over the horizon, her eyes as open and alert as they had been before. It seemed that she was not going to get any sleep.

When she heard Sarah shuffling around her dressing room, she threw her legs over the side of the bed – intent on starting her day rather than lounging in bed.


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N:** _This is the longest chapter thus far! I hope you guys were not getting worried at my extended absence. No, I am not losing interest in this story. In fact, the more I write, the more eager I am to get to the next part of the plot written. We unfortunately had a bit of a family emergency this week (we had to call the ambulance on my brother) and he stayed in the hospital several days so we were all just a bit out of whack. On top of all that, I also came down with a bit of a bug and am still getting over it. But I have powered through enough to get this chapter published!_

 _People in the comments have noted that Darcy's character is suffering due to the focus on Edward's. However, would you believe me if I said that that was kind of intentional? Have no fear, for Darcy's big parts are coming later on in the story. We will get to spend some time with her and really flesh her out, but before I do that, I kind of wanted to get Edward where he was supposed to be. We are still following a very similar storyline to P &P right now, so I am trying to keep it more revolved around Elizabeth (Edward) like the actual book does._

 _Anyway, please keep up with the reviews! I love hearing from you!_

 _austenauthoress_

* * *

 **Chapter 7**

From nearly the moment Darcy stepped into his study, Bingley could tell something was wrong.

"Darce!" He remarked, popping up from the chair behind his desk. The footmen opened the doors to allow her entrance along with her maid Sarah, who followed her mistress with a concerned look on her features. "Good morning! I did not expect you this early."

She said nothing in reply, sitting quietly in the chair before his desk without so much as a smile as her maid stood off to the side. Now that she was closer to him, Bingley could see the dark circles under his friend's eyes and the obvious tiredness that seemed to arrest her being.

"Are you feeling alright?" The man asked nervously, sitting back in his chair. Darcy was never one to look so overwrought. "You look as though you have not slept."

Darcy gave him a wry smile, though it did not meet her eyes. That was not unusual, her smiles never really did. "I am fine, Bingley. Do not concern yourself. I am all ears to whatever you have to ask of me."

Though the man continued to look unsure, he knew better than to prod into his friend's personal affairs. If that was indeed what this was about. "Alright, Darcy. I hope everything is alright with Pemberley and Georgiana. I know those are two of the only things in life that could discompose you so."

At this, Frances rushed to assure him. "Both Pemberley and Georgiana are fine. My post for both my sister and my steward should be leaving this morning and, the last time I had checked, everything remained stable. Indeed, I just had an ill night where sleep seemed to escape me."

"Alright, as long as there is nothing I can do," Charles remarked, pausing for a moment to see if Darcy would say more, but she did not. Realizing she was not going to share anymore of her problems, Bingley pulled out the book that contained Netherfield's accounts. "Here are the numbers that we were discussing the other day. The only amounts that have not been penned yet are the changes to the housekeeping account I made only two days ago. Caroline insisted she needed to buy several pieces to brighten up a few of the rooms."

"Oh?" Darcy did not like the sound of that. She knew how persuasive Miss Bingley could be whenever she wanted something. She also knew how much of a pushover Bingley was when it came to his sisters. Since they were also aware of this fact, it hurt Frances to see him used so ill by the people whom he was supposed to be able to trust. Instead they used him for their own personal gain.

The young lady could not help but think of how badly this man would do in a marriage with a mercenary country girl. He would give in to her every whim and they would be out on the streets of London in no time.

Deciding not to address that issue at the time, Frances took the book from him – turning it towards her so she could read the print easier. "Everything seems to be in order," She stated, after going over the numbers in her head. "Your steward is proving to be extremely knowledgeable. While you are only leasing this property, you will be able to take advantage of such good management. That, as well as visiting tenants and learning to meet their needs, will suit you well indeed whenever you choose to find an estate to buy."

The room went silent, both parties deep in their own thoughts.

"I was actually considering buying Netherfield," Bingley admitted cautiously, knowing that Darcy did not exactly approve of Hertfordshire. The moment he shared this piece of information, he could immediately see her displeasure. He rushed to reassure her, "I mean I have not made a final decision, but Netherfield is definitely a fine property. After spending so much time on it and working with the tenants, I could see myself being quite attached to it at the end of my lease."

"Or attached to a certain country miss you are housing under your roof," Frances gruffly remarked, sitting back in her chair in frustration. "I cannot believe you would choose Hertfordshire over somewhere such as Derbyshire or even somewhere closer to Bath or Brighton. I would rather have you in Kent than here, which is saying much because then I would be forced to visit my aunt every time I visited you."

Bingley did laugh at this, knowing how exasperated the lady got when it came to her aunt. "I understand. However, I am positive this estate would suit me well – just as Miss Bennet would."

"Do you have any reason to believe she returns your feelings?" Frances asked, sitting forward so that the man was forced to look her in the eyes. "Has she told you of her feelings? Not her brother, or her mother, but Miss Bennet specifically. Has she given you any reason to believe that you are her preference?"

Bingley hesitated. "She has been ill. I do not believe young women are known to feel particularly like flirts while dealing with colds."

"That is not what I am referring to," Frances stood, beginning to pace back and forth. Though she felt woozy from lack of sleep, the dread she felt within her at the thought of Bingley making such a bad judgement that could effect the rest of his life, made her exceedingly anxious. "Whenever the two of you are in company – which you have been a few times now – does she give you special attentions that she does not give to others?"

Darcy watched as Bingley sat back in his chair, staring at the books laid out in front of him. He was trying to think back to all of his interactions with Miss Bennet, but was not coming up with any satisfying conclusions. Frances could see it written all across his face. Knowing he was getting no where, the young man quickly changed the subject.

"You seem a bit more tense than usual," Charles commented carefully, causing Darcy's brows to raise at his statement. "Perhaps you should try to invite Georgiana once again. Maybe she would be ready to make her way to Hertfordshire."

Frances' body automatically relaxed at the name of her younger sister. Dear Georgie! She would be such a light in the dark right now. Unfortunately, when Darcy had left for her initial journey to Netherfield, Georgiana was still dealing with the heavy burden of what she had nearly done during the summer and her renewed studies. However, now that a good amount of time had passed, perhaps she would be willing to make the trip.

"I do not know about that," Frances voiced, staring out across the lawn from the study window. The sun was now shining brightly over the trees, a much different picture from the dark scene she had taken in the night before. "I would not want to burden you with one more guest since it seems we are being overrun by them," She said the last part bitterly, though it was lost on Bingley.

"Nonsense!" Bingley stood from his desk chair, joining Darcy at the window. "Your sister is all things proper and would prove to be a welcome addition to our already assembled party. At least extend the invitation to her and see if she accepts."

Frances frowned slightly, deep in thought. She did not want to pressure Georgiana into a journey she did not feel she was ready for but – with the turmoil that was currently taking place within her – it would be nice to have her sister about to distract her from the man who never seemed to leave her mind.

"I will include your invitation in the letter I wrote last night," Darcy finally conceded, refusing to meet his gaze as he turned to reward her with a huge smile, a movement that came easily to him. "I cannot promise she will accept, but I would like to have my sister here where I can at least oversee her studies. Since I did not send the second letter out this morning, it will not be hard to modify."

"Splendid!" Bingley nearly exclaimed, turning back to the landscape in front of them. Both stood in silence, observing nature wake as a new morning came upon it. Almost spellbound, Bingley quietly spoke "It is quite beautiful. I cannot believe I am in charge of it."

This seemingly small statement was a big step for Bingley. He was finally starting to see himself as master of an estate and taking great pride in it. Darcy, while still exhausted from her night of tossing and turning, could not help the soft smile that appeared on her features. She was proud of him.

"Well, you should. You paid enough for it."

Bingley gave her a sideways glance – but at seeing her smile after it being dormant for so long – he could not help the chuckle that escaped him. "Indeed I did."

* * *

Edward was not having a good morning.

Not only had his sleep been restless, with him going to check in on Jane every few hours just to be sure she was well, but his Mama had also decided to descend upon Netherfield right after his morning walk. Not only Mrs. Bennet, but also all the youngest Bennet sisters had come to thank Mr. Bingley for his hospitality and check on a very sick Jane.

They had just finished breaking their fast, the drawing room silent after such a set down was delivered last night in the same exact space – when Mrs. Bennet's voice could be heard in the foyer. Miss Bingley, Mrs. Hurst, and Miss Darcy all seemed to visibly tense as the shrill cries met their ears.

Once the ladies had been announced and ushered in, Bingley instantly began to assure Mrs. Bennet that Jane was receiving the best care she could under his roof.

"Oh – I am sure Jane is fine in your capable hands, Mr. Bingley," Mrs. Bennet simpered causing the young man to blush at her statement. "I have just come to see how she is doing this morning."

After having checked on Jane before coming down to breakfast, Edward answered her inquiry so she would not walk upstairs and disturb Jane's rest. "She is doing better today, Mama. Her fever was high last night, but it has begun to decrease. She's asleep in the most peaceful sleep she has been able to fall into since coming down with the cold."

"I knew she would be fine!" Mrs. Bennet exclaimed, causing Miss Darcy to twitch slightly at her high-pitched tone. "People do not just fall over and die from colds."

"Well," Edward started, crossing his arms from where he stood across from his mother. "I would not say that it has not happened before, but I believe Jane will not be one to fall victim to it."

By answering his mother's question, Edward had been hoping his mother would leave once she got what she wanted – but it seemed like that was not going to happen. Instead all the ladies made themselves comfortable on the sofa, Lydia and Kitty giggling still from the moment they had stepped into the house. Mary, on the other hand, was silent.

"Mr. Bingley, you promised to throw a ball," Lydia claimed loudly, turning her body to face the young man. There was no obvious concern on her features at the welfare of her sister as she finally addressed the topic she had come to talk about. "Have you thought anymore about the matter?"

Bingley was too polite to point out that he had promised no such thing, but he enjoyed society just as much as the next gentleman. "I believe a ball would be a wonderful event indeed. Once your sister has recovered a date shall be set."

Kitty and Lydia squealed and Mrs. Bennet's excitement was not far behind her daughters. Edward was mortified, what unrefined behavior his family seemed to be displaying.

Caroline Bingley was not impressed either. "A ball? Do they even hold such parties in the country?"

"Oh yes," Mrs. Bennet assured her, not catching the sardonic tone in the young lady's voice. "They are not held often, but when they are, they prove to be quite lively affairs."

Caroline turned to Frances at this statement, the girl standing close to the window and away from the unwelcomed company. "Do you hear that, Anne?" Miss Bingley stepped closer to her friend, flashing her an exaggerated smile. "Who knew that country society was so vibrant."

Frances was still in a mood from her restless night and could not be bothered with putting on polite manners towards a woman who proved to be so below her interest. "I always have found country society very confined. You have such a small variety of people to dine with and even fewer topics of conversation that you can broach."

Mrs. Bennet did not fail to catch the haughty tone in Miss Darcy's voice. While she was able to disregard Bingley's sister on the grounds that being nice to her would serve the woman's purpose in the end, she was not willing to allow this heiress – who had dared to insult her son and heir upon first acquaintance – treat her as though she were less due to her circumstance.

"I will have you know – we dine with four and twenty families," This drew malicious smiles from both Louisa and Caroline. "And the company seems even less self important than some people I know."

Frances tensed at the insult – knowing it was for her. Her dark gaze never left the window, her narrowed eyes the only sign that she had even heard the comment.

After a few more minutes of pleasantries, the Bennets took their leave. Mrs. Bennet twittered about all the lovely, expensive furnishings as she left the house, and the younger girls giggled just as they always did. Edward was just grateful Mary had not felt the need to sermonize at any point during the morning call.

Miss Darcy dismissed herself but a few moments later – claiming a headache had suddenly discomposed her.

The party soon each found their own amusements. Mr. Hurst was napping on the sofa while his wife sketched a design for a small table. Caroline Bingley had taken to practicing at the pianoforte in the music room while Bingley and Edward both chose books to read. While Edward perused a new copy of poems from Mr. Bingley's study, the young man across from him read from a tomb that's cover was an all too familiar one to him.

"Is that the new book on improving techniques in agriculture?" Edward asked the man, distracted from the pages of his own book. Bingley looked up in surprise, having been engrossed in a specific passage. No one in the room acknowledged their conversation, everyone else being absorbed in their own tasks.

"Indeed," He answered, shutting the book to look at the cover. "Miss Darcy suggested I read it after she had finished. Apparently, it has several new methods to improve the harvest of the coming year. I had not believed it was as good as she said, but I must say, it has some very good ideas."

Edward was a bit taken aback that Miss Darcy had read the book. It was not one of those romantic novels that women seemed to take such an interest in, but a purely analytical study on new ways to yield better crops. While he knew that Miss Darcy had a very large estate in Derbyshire, he had not realized she went to such lengths to take care of her lands herself. He had half expected her steward to do it.

"I too have read it," Edward admitted, giving the man a wry smile. "I also asked my father to read it, but I fear he is not as diligent of a student as you."

Bingley chuckled at this. "I am sure Miss Darcy would disagree with you," Seeing the frown that appeared on Edward's face, Charles rushed to explain. "No, I am not saying Darcy believes I am not a good master of my lands. She has been trying to get me to buy an estate for years so I could learn alongside her as she prepared to take full custody of her own estate. I am afraid I did not feel quite up to the task however."

"Darcy?" Edward could not keep himself from asking, the intimacy unusual between a man and woman who were simply cited as friends. It was a common practice for a man to address another by using his last name, but it was near unheard of to do so with ladies. It spoke of a level of respect rarely seen between the opposite sexes.

Bingley blushed at his slip. "I am sorry – I meant Miss Darcy. Sometimes I forget to address her in the way society requires me to. I have known her for so long and have received such good advice and experience from watching her take control of her lands, that I'm afraid I have begun to look at her as almost a brotherly figure that is a female. It sounds strange, but I could see Darcy as no less. She is not like most ladies of the _ton._ To allow a steward or a male family member to run her lands – it would have killed her. She has always been raised knowing that she was going to have to be both master and mistress."

Edward was shocked at Miss Darcy's apparent generosity. "I had no idea," He finally admitted, the surprise on his features evident. "For a woman to take full control of her lands is an unusual circumstance for someone of any class. My own inheritance is an entailment so it is hard for me to imagine anything different."

Bingley nodded, understanding Edward's position – for it was his before he had met Frances. Everyone around them continued on with their tasks, their conversation lost over the sound of Caroline's playing pouring out of the music room.

The young Mr. Bennet sat back in his chair, properly humbled for a moment. He had questioned whether his first impression of Miss Darcy had been too harsh and that perhaps he had been overlooking some important aspects of her character. While her manners really had not improved, this new facet of her that had been exposed to him – that she cared for her lands and was a decent master – he could not help but admire. It was like when he had discovered she enjoyed chess.

' _No matter_ ,' Edward thought as he returned to his book. ' _She may be a good master but, without a good character, that matters little._ _The more I know of Miss Darcy, the more puzzled I become. How tiring it must be to be such an enigma._ '

* * *

That evening found the party together once again, this time in the music room. They had just enjoyed a rather spectacular dinner with good wine that seemed to have eased them all. Except Hurst, who as always, was slouched over on the couch after having consumed a _bit_ too much as well as helping himself to Mr. Bingley's port.

Edward had never been much of a drinker. Not only did he not particularly enjoy the taste, but he had also come to find that most people were at their worst when they partook in too much drink. It had been his experience in University as well as behind closed doors of men's study's. However, after finding that Jane was much better – her fever having decreased greatly– he had decided to indulge a bit more than he usually did. If he had to spend another evening in the company of the Bingley sisters and Miss Darcy, he was going to need something to take the edge off.

Frances – feeling much more refreshed after a short nap and warm bath – stared across the room at the young man that had so affected her. Did he have any idea how he made her feel? Was he aware of what he was doing to her? There were few things in they world that Frances Darcy would be losing sleep over, and ironically enough, Edward Bennet was one of them.

He looked at her then – his dark eyes meeting her own. He had expected her to look away once he returned her gaze, but she kept on looking at him with disapprobation. It was as though she were trying to find a fault in his person by attempting to stare into his soul. Unnerved, Edward averted his eyes.

The lady did, in fact, look at him to find fault – but it was not for the reason he was thinking of. Besides him being the heir of a relatively small estate, there were not many other things she could find wrong with him. He could be snippy at times – as he was last night, with her of all people – but other than that, he was intelligent and quick-witted. Knowing that his lack of fortune was his only deficiency of character disturbed her greatly.

Then there were his looks. While she had claimed that first night of their acquaintance that he was not near handsome enough to tempt her – the fact of the matter was that apparently he is. While her original fascination had been his eyes – the way they sparkled with mirth when he spoke to others – she had to admit that there were other aspects of him that she found aesthetically pleasing. His wavy brown hair, the way it always seemed to be in disarray from previous exercise, pleased her to no end. While most ladies would find his almost unkempt appearance to be a major detriment to his appeal – for her it just showed a love of the world around him.

The sense of danger she felt when he was around returned at full force. She feared she was getting in too deep at this point. Whether it was the wine or the feelings that seemed to well within her whenever they shared a room – she did not know. What she did know was that she needed a husband who could bring both wealth and connections to her estate and family.

 _'Did I just think of the word husband in relation to Mr. Bennet?'_ The thought alarmed her, having not been able to remember if she had ever considered him a potential match. Maybe considered but never seriously, right? She was not truly considering this was she?

Her features had hardened, alerting the room to some sort of discomfort on her part. Caroline – believing the woman to be just as put out by Edward Bennet's constant witticisms and lack of social manners as herself – decided to suggest they use the room for what it was meant to be used for: music.

"Anne," Miss Bingley spoke from the settee across the room, having just taken her seat next to her sister. "Why don't you entertain us on the violin? I played the pianoforte earlier and I am sure that everyone here is tired of my playing."

"Nonsense, Caroline! You play beautifully!" Charles Bingley boasted, dismissing her unusual show of modesty. "However, we have not enjoyed Miss Darcy's playing in awhile."

While her nap and bath had done wonders to improve her temperament, Frances did not enjoy being the center of attention. Unfortunately, any time a young lady had talent on an instrument and was in company, she was expected to play. While Darcy had learned to play the violin particularly well, it was not because she wished for it to be shared with others.

"I do not believe I am feeling up to it," Frances admitted meekly, looking at the lovely violin sitting on the stand by the pianoforte. The thought of playing in front of Mr. Bennet, caused a wave of panic to rush over her.

"We are an intimate party!" Charles insisted, standing before her and offering her his arm to assist her from her seat. Maybe he had had a bit too much to drink. "Come, I insist!"

Darcy was reluctantly led over to the instrument. Before she could even bend down to pick it up, Bingley was already handing it to her. While he returned to his seat, Frances looked out awkwardly at the occupants of the room. The Bingley sisters were both smiling as if they had planned to put her on the spot – which they had, if only to show Bingley the many talents of Frances, as well as point out to Mr. Bennet how much accomplishment his sister truly lacked – and Bingley himself was grinning like a fool.

It was Mr. Bennet's gaze that she paused on. He still held that same sparkle in his eye as he always did, but he also seemed to have something else there as well. Was it interest? Was it amusement at her predicament? She did not know.

What she did know though was that she was going to have to play whether she liked it or not. She could not refuse her host.

As she tuned the strings, Edward could not keep his gaze from her. A large part of that was the fact that Miss Darcy was acting so… _shy_? He figured any lady of the _ton_ that possessed the accomplishments she did would be dying to share her talents with all of society. It was unusual to find a girl with such pedigree so reticent when in and out of company.

Just when he found himself in danger of finding her all too apparent anxiety adorable, she schooled her features once again. Gone was the meek young girl who had been put on the spot by people who claimed to be her friends, and there was the Miss Darcy he had come to know throughout all their interactions.

Though the occupants of the room could not see, Frances was shaking. She could feel it in her fingers as she places them over the strings. Of course she had been forced to perform in company before, but that was usually while amongst family or at small parties. She was not used to playing in front of a man who she was starting to believe she admired.

At that thought, she took a deep breath. She had not meant that, surely she had not.

Then she began to play.

Edward instantly recognized the piece, though he had never heard it so masterfully played. Mary had attempted the Italian aria several times but always seemed to stumble through it. From the first moments her bow touched the strings, Edward was captivated.

The raw emotion that went into every note, was enough to cause him to still. While he had expected Miss Darcy to be proficient at the violin – surely her wealth could buy her the finest technique and masters the _ton_ had to offer – but he had not expected so much emotion to be put behind her playing. It suddenly struck him how strange it was that someone who seemed to be so emotionless and detached, could play the violin as she did.

Darcy did not look up to meet the eyes that she could feel upon her. If she did, she was afraid it would cause her to forget all the notes that followed. She had no use for sheet music – knowing the song by heart and having seen it performed many times. However, she feared that if she were to make eye contact with the man who sat so still in his seat, all previous knowledge would flee her.

Miss Bingley was glancing at her brother the entire time their friend played, but was disappointed by what she saw. While he seemed to enjoy the young lady's performance, she could not detect any special regard on his face. Even in the light of so many ladies who were less accomplished than her, Frances Darcy still held no appeal for Charles Bingley.

Louisa noticed this too and fanned herself at the idea that her brother's heart could truly be engaged somewhere else.

As the last note rung out through the room, only Hurst's low snores could be heard. Everyone was quiet.

Then they were clapping.

"Darcy, sometimes I forget how well you can play!" Charles exclaimed, as he stood from his seat to applaud his friend. He was a bit unsteady, but remained standing. "Now all we need is for Georgiana to join us and we will have a whole house full of talent."

Caroline, at hearing the young girl's name, nearly jumped from her seat. "Anne, you had not told us that your sister would be joining us?"

Desperately wanting the attention of the room to turn from her, Frances sat back in the seat she had occupied before. "I am sending her an invitation. However, I cannot promise you that she will choose to come."

"Dear Georgie!" Caroline cried, as though she had not heard a word the woman had said. Once again she implied an intimacy that was not there by using the girl's nickname in reference to her. "If there was ever such an accomplished girl at her age – I do not know!"

While Georgiana was yet young, the Bingley sisters still had hopes that perhaps the younger Darcy sister would find some way to draw the appeal of Charles. She was blonde – just as all his other "angels" had been – and held the same demure sweetness he seemed to take such an interest in.

Unbeknownst to them though, Miss Darcy had already been assured that Bingley would never show serious designs on her sister. That had been an interesting day of conversation, indeed.

During all of this, Edward had kept to his seat. He had clapped once Miss Darcy had finished, but had remained uncharacteristically silent during the conversation after. He was not used to being rendered so incoherent, especially not by a young woman.

Finally, the attention of the room turned from Miss Darcy back to Caroline Bingley who decided to display her own talent to the room. While she certainly played her piece very proficiently, anything would seem to lack if it followed after such a passionate performance. While the room was captivated by the woman sitting at the bench of the pianoforte, Edward's eyes still rested on the girl sitting across from him.

After the mention of her sister, she had seemed to draw in to herself a bit more. Edward recognized the look on her face as she stared into the fire. He too had a sister that he cherished above all else and worried for constantly.

Standing from his seat, he did not know what compelled him to do it – but he crossed the room to where she sat. It was not until her eyes met his own that he even realized what he had done. Thankfully, Miss Bingley chose that moment – after short applause – to begin playing another piece.

Frances looked up at the man curiously, his movement across the room unexpected. His cheeks were red, but she highly doubted it was from the wine they had enjoyed earlier at the dinner table.

Edward was not sure what he was doing standing in front of her. He had not truly thought any of his actions through. At first, he had wanted to comfort her in her apparent concern for her sister – but they were not well acquainted enough to share such a conversation. A bit panicked, but ever thinking on his feet, the young man finally stuck out his hand.

"Such a lively song calls for a dance – do you not agree, Miss Darcy?" He had completely forgotten that the last time he had asked her to dance; she had turned him down. But that was then and this was now – and there was just something about her that drew him in. He had tried to fight it, but it was suddenly deciding to claw itself to the surface.

Frances was shocked by his forwardness, yet she could not deny the heat that rose within her at the idea of a dance with him. Her last refusal had been based upon the fact that she had been greatly annoyed by his manner and the way his eyes seemed to laugh at her from across the room – but she had later learned that that was just the young man's way. He preferred to smile through life rather than scowl upon it as she had – and she loved that about him.

' _Loved?_ '

Before Darcy could even place her hand within his, it seemed Miss Bingley already had a grasp of what was going on. Suddenly, her near perfect playing came to a halt.

"How silly of me!" Caroline jumped from her seat, standing at her full height. All in the room startled slightly from the sudden stop of entertainment, including Hurst who snorted awake in confusion. "I just realized I promised I would have a letter sent off in the morning post. I have not even started to write it."

Charles, who had not noticed Edward's attempt at asking Frances to dance, was incredibly confused. "Caroline, was that reason enough to cut off such a wonderful performance?"

"Yes," Miss Bingley replied firmly, her eyes glued on Frances and Edward. The young man had retracted his hand at the abrupt end of her playing while Darcy stared back into the fire – a blush obvious on her cheeks. "For it cannot wait. This woman is _very_ important in society. She must be treated as such – I cannot delay my pen any longer."

Bingley looked flummoxed, but he recognized this as a clear dismissal for the night. Though he would have preferred to sit around for awhile longer and enjoyed a bit of intelligent conversation and good music, he would follow his sister's lead.

"I need to check in on Jane once more," Edward announced as everyone stood to bow to their hostess. "I believe I should now wish you all a goodnight."

Darcy hastily stood from her seat, silent as night. While she curtsied, she did not give any reason for wanting to retire. It was not necessary at that point anyway because it seemed like everyone in the intimate party was looking to turn in.

Once they were up the stairs, they all went in their separate directions. Frances went immediately to her room while Edward knocked timidly on Jane's door, hoping that she was not yet asleep.

The door was opened by one of the maids from the first day of his stay. He bowed slightly to her as he entered, stepping into the dimly lit room. Jane was sitting up in bed, propped against the pillows with her eyes open.

"How are you feeling, Janie?" Edward asked, reverting back to Jane's childhood nickname. It was hard not to when she looked so young and vulnerable. It broke Edward's heart. Though when she gave him a small smile, he could feel hope filling him once more.

"I am better," Jane answered, her voice still hoarse. "They have been treating me so nicely. I hate to be such a burden to Mr. Bingley's hospitality."

Edward had to chuckle at that, sitting on the edge of the bed so he could hold one pale hand in his. "I believe your Mr. Bingley is enjoying showering you with attention."

"He is not _my_ Mr. Bingley, Eddie."

"You may believe whatever you wish," The younger brother said, knowing that Jane's humble disposition caused her to doubt the veracity of the man's affections. He would not change it for the world though – it was one of the things he loved the most about her.

They talked for a few minutes longer, but Edward could see that Jane was still tired and feverish. With a gentle kiss on the forehead, he left his sister in the capable hands of the maid assigned to her. His heart felt much lighter than it had in many days.

It wasn't until he climbed into bed that he recalled the moment that had been interrupted by Miss Bingley's outburst.

Miss Darcy was going to accept his hand and dance with him. What had possessed him to even ask her was still a mystery at that point. When he had seen her face after being asked about her sister, he truly felt like they had made a connection. One far deeper than any dream he had ever conjured up of her. It was like for a moment he had a glimpse of the girl who had come to him in his dreams, the one who had laughed softly at his banter and worried about the night before them.

It was all so strange.

At that point in time, he did not know what to think. It seemed as though he was saying that often in reference to her, but she absolutely baffled him. She caused such an odd mixture of feelings within him that he truly felt frightened for the first time.

He tried to tell himself that this was the same girl who had called him "not handsome enough" to tempt her, but even that could not fully sway him. Could he really be getting such designs on a woman who, instead of being nice and polite, decided to deride the company around her? It was completely against his nature.

However, something had certainly changed between them that night. There was a connection there that had not been there before.

Whether it was from the amount of wine and port he had consumed, or genuine tiredness after such a day amongst Netherfield's party, Edward soon fell into a deep sleep.

* * *

 _He was sitting within a music room of a grand house. It was not Netherfield – no, it exhibited even more wealth than that fine estate. A pianoforte rested in the corner with a violin perched beside it._

 _Miss Darcy stood there in a dress of dark blue much like the one she had worn before – but instead now her hair was half up with curls framing her face and flowing over her shoulders. He only had eyes for her, not only because she was the most beautiful object in the room, but because she was the only other person there as well. It did not even occur to him how inappropriate it was for him to be with her alone without a chaperone._

 _"Won't you play for me, my dear?" The words left him naturally as though he had used the endearment many times in the past. She looked startled at his request, a familiar blush appearing on her cheeks. He could see her familiar shyness peeping through her demeanor._

 _That look brought him to his feet. He crossed the room to where she stood before the fire. She appeared even more beautiful in the light of the flames._

 _"I have not heard you play in so long," He commented, reaching out a hand to meet her own. He twisted her wedding ring with one of his fingers, but thought nothing of the accessory. "And you know how much I enjoy your playing."_

 _Her blush grew at his words, but she replied steadily. "Indeed, I do. I am afraid I did not even get to finish the last note in your eagerness to abscond me to our chambers the last time."_

 _Edward laughed at her red cheeks, fighting the urge to kiss them. He took her into his arms then, holding her close. She rested against him instantly, a level of intimacy existing between them that could not be denied._

 _"I promise I shall allow you to finish your performance this time around," The young man promised with mock solemnity. "Besides, I have another form a payment I want to give you for this exhibition."_

 _While the rosiness of her cheeks remained, the lady's eyes looked boldly into his. "Do you?"_

 _He nodded, but made no attempt to explain what he had meant._

 _Growing semi-annoyed with his playfulness, yet finding it charming at the same time – Miss Darcy drew back from him to fully gage his expression. Given how her last performance had affected him, she half expected a flirtation to leave his lips._

 _"Well do not keep me in suspense, Mr. Bennet," She finally asked. "I am all ears."_

 _Edward gave her a crooked grin, drawing her back to him. "I was thinking that we could play a game of chess."_

 _Of course he would respond in a way that would catch her off guard. She stood for a moment in surprise, but soon recovered. Leaning towards him, she bestowed a sweet kiss upon his lips. It did not hold the passion that he had come to expect, but it spoke of an intimacy that was far more precious._

 _"I shall agree to your terms."_

 _She left his arms and he was surprised to find how empty they felt without her in them. She crossed the room to pick up the violin, but before she could he spoke again._

 _"I may even let you win."_

 _At the playful tone in his voice, she had to laugh. "If you are forgetting, my dear husband – I have won our past four matches."_

 _His only answer was a wide smile. He sat back on the sofa, leaning against the cushions to give him the best view. The moment her bow hit the strings, a familiar feeling of contentment suddenly rushed over him._

 _He closed his eyes and lost himself in the music._

* * *

When he awoke from this dream, Edward reacted differently than he had before. There was no sweat pouring down his forehead or heavy breathing – in fact, he felt at peace.

In his dream, he had not felt that lustful anticipation like he had the one before. No, there had been none of that. While he had desired her still, he had wanted to see them in a scene of domesticity more than anything. He felt an overwhelming adoration fill him when he thought back to the way she had gazed up at him through her eyelashes, just as she had when he had asked her to dance.

While Edward could come to grips with his passion-filled nightmare of weeks before, he could make little sense of the simple intimacy he had just dreamt up.

One thing was certain though – he was in _deep_ trouble.


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N:** _Thank you guys for all the reviews! I'm a bit afraid to publish this chapter, for I know it will upset some - but it simply cannot be helped! This is Pride and Prejudice after all, so what do you expect? There has to be SOME misunderstandings between these lovely characters. Just keep in mind that there is a happy ending and that I have already promised that this would be a bit more romantic than Austen's P &P!_

 _I cannot remember if I have ever mentioned why Edward Bennet's feelings are so much stronger than Elizabeth's were in the original work. As this is something that really can't be said in context, I figured I would go ahead and mention it. While it's obvious that Elizabeth holds a certain kind of attraction to Darcy in the beginning of the novel, she does not exactly understand what such feelings mean. The line between love and hate is blurred but passion is passion. Remember that Elizabeth was a maiden in the book, so she unfortunately had little understanding what her attraction to Darcy actually meant. Edward, on the other hand, is a male who has already been off to university. Though he is inexperienced, he understands the feelings that he is feeling. While he harbors a slight dislike for Miss Darcy, he can also tell that he feels a certain passion towards her. Instead of this passion being interpreted it as hate, he interprets it as lust. Therefore, bringing his feelings to the surface a little sooner than Elizabeth's._

 _That was probably a jumbled mess, but it's so hard to explain exactly what made me change Edward's attitude towards Frances. There are several essays online though that go in depth regarding Elizabeth's unacknowledged/misinterpreted passions at the beginning of the novel that I totally recommend._

 _Anyways, happy reviewing!_

 _austenauthoress_

* * *

Unfortunately, much like the night before – Frances did not get much sleep.

After nearly accepting Edward Bennet's invitation to dance, she had retired to her room in a state of nerves. As Sarah helped her into her nightgown, she remained silent. There was nothing she could say and no one she could talk to. This problem she was going to have to solve on her own.

It occurred to her that perhaps inviting Georgiana had not been the greatest idea, but her quickly penned invitation was set to be sent out in the morning post. Besides, bringing Georgiana to Netherfield would provide a distraction for her from the Bennet heir. Maybe if her younger sister was there, she would be more concerned with matters that needed her attention more desperately than finding a husband – such as, her family and her estate.

It also occurred to her that she really could pick up and leave anytime she wanted. While Bingley was not exactly on his feet, he was capable enough to take care of matters from here on out. However, she could not bring herself to abandon him with Caroline and Louisa as his only influencers. They had already weaseled him into purchasing more expensive furnishings – if she left, he would have no one to help him stay on budget. A steward could only do so much when working against two persuasive older sisters.

Then there was the issue of his growing interest in Jane Bennet. While she had spent quite a few hours in the lady's bedroom, nursing her back to health, she did not have a firm grasp on her character. As she had said to Bingley before, it seemed she had little interest in him besides her mother's evident desire to make a prudent match.

No, Darcy could not run from this problem. At least not alone. If she were to run, she would be taking Bingley with her to make certain he could not be influenced by his sisters.

How she was going to get him out of Hertfordshire, she did not know. It was obvious he was enraptured with Jane Bennet. However, if she could make him see that the lady was not interested in him – perhaps he could be persuaded to give up his lease or at least spend the holidays in London.

"Will that be all, mum?"

"Oh, yes," Frances answered, startled from her thoughts. Sarah bowed and turned from the dressing room, exiting through the servant's door.

When Frances finally climbed into bed, it was with a new resolve. She would talk to Bingley on the morrow and see if she could convince him to see reason. Although she had spoken her thoughts to him only that morning, she felt that to bring it up again would be necessary. She would ask him to pay attention to Miss Bennet's behavior so he could see her disinterest for himself. While he was doing that, Frances too would be watching the girl very closely.

The quicker he saw Jane Bennet's true intentions, the quicker she would be able to leave Hertfordshire and return to her beautiful Pemberley.

A small part of her whispered that perhaps leaving Hertfordshire would not clear her head of Mr. Bennet and that absence truly would make the heart grow fonder – but she ignored it. Once Georgiana arrived, she probably would not even give him a second thought.

Though she believed she had come to some sort of a resolution, that did not mean sleep was easily in her grasp. She tossed and turned and kicked off her covers several times, sleeping in small increments all throughout the night. Her dreams all revolved around _him_. It was as though even in sleep; she could not escape him.

When morning finally arrived, she rose early yet again. While she had taken a bath before her nap the day before, she suddenly desired another one.

Sarah knew her mistress well. She could not say that she necessarily understood what she was thinking all the time, but she could definitely tell when something was on her mind. No words needed to be communicated between them as she was summoned to the lady's dressing room at the break of dawn. She had some of the other maids carry up several pails of warm water as she answered her mistress' call. There was nothing that Frances Darcy liked more than a bath or a ride to settle her nerves.

"I see I have become predictable," Frances commented wryly, as the maids entered with the water. Sarah said nothing in return, knowing that her mistress did not expect her to.

Once the water was ready and the other maids disappeared to take care of their other duties, Sarah went to help her mistress from her nightdress. But before she could do that, she brushed out the knots that had collected in the lady's hair during the night. Though the maid had remembered braiding it, she also knew that her mistress had a bad habit of taking it out.

After she was readied, Frances lowered herself into the bath. The instant the water hit her muscles, she could feel the tension leaving her. Sarah piled her hair up high on her head.

"Mum, I do not want to assume – but you do not wish to wash your hair after you did so just yesterday, do you?

"No," Frances said firmly, her eyes closing as she relaxed in the water. Sarah, knowing she was no longer needed, quickly excused herself from the room with a promise that she would return soon to help her mistress dress.

Once Frances was alone, her relaxed state caused her to drift into a light slumber.

Before she knew it, Sarah had returned and already had her robe ready for her. Though she was dreading the conversation she was going to have to have with Bingley, she could tell her fingers were pruning – signaling that she had been in her bath a little too long. She would not be able to avoid the conversation any longer. The sun was just peaking up over the trees when she finally donned her robe.

As Sarah went to go retrieve her dress for the day, Frances walked over to the window to glance out over the side lawn. The trees were now colored orange and red, the recent rains bringing a sort of vibrancy to them that had not been there upon her arrival. As she was observing the new colors and enjoying the sun, she noticed movement from out of the corner of her eye.

Edward Bennet had just come around the corner of the house. His hair was windswept and he was dressed casually in a light coat with a cream colored cravat, knotted in a simple fashion. He looked to be ready to take a romp around the countryside. Had Darcy seen such a sight perhaps two months before, she would have wrinkled her nose in distaste at such relaxed attire – however, things had changed since then. She watched him curiously as he continued up the path along the side of the house.

Out of nowhere, one of Bingley's great dane's came bounding across the lawn. The young Mr. Bennet caught sight of him and instead of getting angry with the dog as it reared up and sprinkled mud on his clothes, the man laughed. Picking a lone stick off the ground, Mr. Bennet offered it to the dog and began to pull back as the hound latched on to it. Finally, after fighting to get it back, the young man threw it down the lawn and watched as the dog ran to retrieve it.

Frances believed he would wait for the animal to bring it back to him, but instead he took off running after it. A familiar warmth filled Darcy at the sight and an urge to go and join them bubbled up within her.

It was so easy to imagine him at Pemberley, where the dog he was playing with wasn't Bingley's, but her own. They had always kept hunting dogs around the house for the Colonel and the Earl whenever they chose to visit. While Mr. Bennet was nowhere near as dignified as the other two men, Frances could imagine him getting along with them splendidly. She could almost see him running down the lane towards Lambton and waving back at her to join him.

"I am ready when you are, mum," Sarah's voice broke through her reverie, bringing her back to the dressing room she was in. With one last glance out the window – Frances turned towards her maid. While the scene outside had been quite endearing to her, her mind was still made up.

She needed to talk to Bingley and she needed to do it soon.

* * *

Edward had broken his fast early that morning, his desire of not having to dine with Miss Bingley and her sister greater than his need to sleep a little later. It was better that he woke early anyway so that he got the chance to walk out before anyone could ask where he was going. He was in desperate need of time to think.

He had resolved nearly the moment his eyes opened that he would take advantage of the cooler weather. After checking in on Jane, whose fever had fully abated, Edward quietly exited the house through the back door and made his way around the side and to the path that he knew led down one of his favorite trails. Besides happening upon one of Mr. Bingley's dog on his way out, he had run into no one. As far as he knew, they were all still asleep in their beds with their heads heavy after imbibing in too much wine.

Edward, too had a headache – though he could not tell what it was from. Whether it was drink or loss of sleep, he did not know. He had spent such a long time after his dream going over all the events that had led up to his stay at Netherfield. It was hard to believe so much had happened in such a short amount of time.

Never would he have believed after the Meryton assembly that he would be suffering such turmoil over Miss Darcy.

While he had consistently reprimanded himself over feeling such things for a lady who showed him no interest, he was beginning to question the veracity of that argument. She had said the night they had met that he was not handsome enough to tempt her, but there was no denying that she certainly did not seem like she wanted to decline his offer to dance the night before. Perhaps she had some interest in him, even if he did not look the way that she liked.

She was snobby, to be sure – but there was something about her that drew him in. It was like the night before when he had caught that glimpse of her face as she worried over her sister. He knew how that felt and that's what had driven him from his seat.

Then there were the dreams.

The first dream he had thought he understood, linking it to his basic carnal desire. He had not met many young ladies that he had not known since childhood and she was different. He had also not indulged in women in university, so he was dealing with a lot of repressed tension.

That did not explain the dream from last night though.

There had been nothing passionate about it. The Miss Darcy of his dreams had not been much different from the one he had seen in the music room the night before. She was shy and reluctant to perform, but she was also _his_. They had been married and though she was just the same as she had always been – she was exactly how Edward wanted her. If he had not wanted her the same as she always was, he would have dreamt of her differently.

He was falling for her. _Hard_.

But how such a thing came to be, he did not know. He had always enjoyed the company of more lively people who seemed to take a delight in life. Miss Darcy did not have either of those qualities, yet she had ones that he valued even higher. She was intelligent and apparently diligent towards the care of her lands and to her friends – if Bingley was anyone to go off of.

He thought about it during his entire walk and he still could not make sense of it. When he finally returned, he took the steps up to the main door two at a time. His resolve was set. He would make more of an effort to get to know Miss Darcy better. Perhaps he could even convince her to play him in chess?

Edward smiled at the thought of that – having never had the chance to challenge a lady at the game. While Jane was surely more sensible than his sisters, she had never showed interest in the pursuit. Neither had Mary despite her love of more intellectual matters such as books. Unfortunately, every book she picked up chose to sermonize rather than better her mind.

He was just on his way to seek the lady out, hoping she was an early riser like himself – when he paused at the sound of voices coming from the study.

"I do not understand what you want me to do, Darcy," Mr. Bingley was saying from behind the door, his tone exasperated. It sounded as though they had had this conversation before. "You spoke of this yesterday morn and my resolve is still the same. I have my heart set on Miss Bennet."

"Her fever is gone," Miss Darcy was saying, the sound of her slippered feet pacing across the floor could be heard through the door. "She will be able to come down and join us shortly. While it is true she may pay more attention to you here at Netherfield – if only because her gratitude demands it – the next time you two are in company will be a true test of her preference."

"And if she does show me preference? Would you approve of my choice? You once said you would not."

Edward held his breath as he waited for Miss Darcy's answer.

"No," Miss Darcy replied, simply as though it was obvious. "She has a small dowry and would bring you none of the social distinction you wish to gain."

The young man who stood outside the door, could barely believe his ears. To hear his sister devalued over her lack of dowry – hurt him deeply. If he was even beginning to think well of Miss Darcy, that was all now ruined.

"So you would not support me in such a case?"

"I will always support you, Bingley," Miss Darcy assured, her voice growing soft with what seemed to be genuine affection for the man. "However, it will hurt me to see you stuck in an unhappy marriage."

"But I would love her."

"Affection will only go so far," Miss Darcy said, gravely. "Once you are ridiculed by your peers of the _ton_ , you will understand. You already have enough trouble making friends with gentlemen who are aware of your history in trade. If you took a country nobody as a bride – you could hang up any hope of someday becoming a part of the respectable society of London."

Edward stood still, frozen by what he heard. He waited with baited breath to see what Bingley would say.

There was silence on the other side of the door. Finally though, Bingley seemed to arrive at an answer. "Caroline has a large enough dowry that my downfall would cost her little. Louisa and Hurst would be able to elevate her. I am not concerned with myself. As long as I have a country estate and a beautiful wife, I am satisfied."

"Yes, but then what happens when you have daughters?" The question was posed again by Miss Darcy, who tried to approach the subject from a different angle in an attempt to get Bingley to see reason. "They will have no money from their mother's dowry and what then? You will attempt to put together decent dowries for them, but coming from such a family – they will be laughed out of the _ton_ with a grandmother like Mrs. Bennet and a grandfather who is a neglectful landowner and gentleman – if the word can even be applied to him."

While Edward usually would agree with such judgements of his mother, he was livid at that point. This lady dared make his family – a gentleman's family, mind you – seem as insignificant as paupers. She also had insulted his father, who had raised him and instilled in him his own good values and a love for literature – oh, she had gone too far now. He knew his father had his downfalls, but to imply that he did not deserve the title of gentleman – that was an completely unfair judgement.

It sounded as though Bingley was going to attempt to speak once more, but at that same moment a maid exited the library that she had been cleaning. Knowing that staying in his position would get him caught, the young man turned back in to the foyer and stood for a moment to make sense of his thoughts. Knowing that fresh air was one of the only things that truly cleared his mind, he walked back out the front door.

As what normally happens in all great misunderstandings, Edward Bennet had missed Miss Darcy's one argument that he might have been able to understand.

"Bingley," Frances started, her solemn features becoming even more drawn as she prepared for what she was going to have to say next. "The reason I caution you is not because I wish to run your life for you. However, I know someone who has had their heartbroken by an admirer whom they thought loved them above all else, when in reality they were only after their fortune. Luckily, they were saved from a marriage but not all are that lucky. Please, Bingley – just think before you make any rash moves. Observe her. If you are willing to risk everything to be with her, I will not stop you. I just want you to realize how much you are truly going to risk."

Bingley sat in silence for a moment, deeply moved by the care that seemed to infuse Darcy's voice. Recognizing that tone, the young man immediately was able to come to a cautious conclusion.

"Georgiana?"

Darcy hesitated, before nodding reluctantly. "Yes. I will not give any particulars, but she was in a similar situation. I will not allow you to make the same mistake she almost did. Promise me, you will not be rash. I know you believe Jane Bennet to be an angel, but do not fall victim to a handsome countenance and pleasing manners."

Bingley was moved by the emotion he heard in her voice. It occurred to him how blessed he was to have Darcy as a friend to help guide him in life. Surely, there was no person who cared for others in such a way as Frances Darcy did. "I promise, Darce. I will be careful."

With one last nod, Frances and her maid turned from the study.

The lady walked with a new found stiffness. She hated to even imply to Bingley that Georgiana had been close to ruin, but it was her last resort. If he would not see reason, perhaps reality would prove to be the best approach to keep him from making such a bad decision.

She dismissed Sarah before she entered the foyer to go and ready her riding habit. Though she had already taken her bath that morning, she suddenly felt in need of a ride.

Just before she was able to ascend the first step of the stairs, Edward Bennet returned from his walk. While his countenance had been infused with playfulness and life that morning, he did not have that same spark as before. In fact, when he met her gaze – his jaw clenched as well as his fists. He looked to be angered.

Regardless of his state, the young man bowed to her. She responded with a short curtsy, but did not voice any greeting to him. What surprised her, though – was that he was just as silent as she was. Once the exchange was over, they both parted ways and continued on with their tasks.

What they did not realize was that that one moment had changed everything.

* * *

Edward did not attend dinner that night.

Instead, he chose to spend some much needed time with his sister. While he was reluctant to tell Jane about what he had overheard, it was just too hard to keep it to himself.

"How dare she?" He was saying as he stabbed his fork into the pheasant on his plate. "To accuse you of such mercenary means – I do not understand how one seems to think they have such an understanding of a person they do not know. Our mother does not speak for you and she does not control your actions either. You have a brother who will inherit the land you live on now – so why would you even be seeking a rich husband when you are already guaranteed security?"

Jane watched calmly as Edward aggressively ate his food. While her cheeks were rosy from the embarrassment of what was being said behind her back, she could not help but see the best in all parties involved in the situation.

"I imagine all rich people are quite guarded when it comes to their affections, Eddie," The young man scoffed at this, but otherwise remained silent. "She worries for her friend. She does not wish for him to be unhappy in an imprudent match. She knows that many young women would take advantage of Mr. Bingley's easy manners and predisposition to like everyone."

"No," Edward stated firmly, placing his plate down on the side tray that had been brought over to Jane's bed. "This is about her thinking she is above us due to her wealth. She said herself that she would not approve of such a match even if it you did return Mr. Bingley's affections. She said he would be socially ruined."

"He probably would – it would be considered marrying beneath him."

"You are a gentleman's daughter, Jane," Edward said. "Do not let anyone ever tell you that you are worth less than that."

"I know that, Eddie," She assured him, patting the fist that lay atop of the covers. "But what she said was not exactly untrue. Any children we'd produce would have to suffer from such an alliance. I would bring him little to no dowry and Mr. Bingley would have to invest in order to ever come up with appropriate dowries for any daughters we may have."

"What is that compared to affection?" The younger brother finally asked, grasping her hand. "What are connections and wealth compared to the joy of forming a marriage with someone who you esteem? Would it be worth it, Jane?"

"Of course," She spoke softly, no hesitation. "However, I am not the one who would suffer from such a marriage. My feelings would not matter if such drawbacks held any weight for Mr. Bingley. If he truly cares for me, it will matter little. But who's to say he holds great affection for me? Perhaps it is just a passing fancy. If so, then I hope whoever he does end up with – makes him happy beyond belief. He is truly a great man."

Edward quieted for a moment. Looking in to Jane's unwavering stare, that even after sickness – held such quiet resolve and unaffected sweetness. He realized that his sister truly was as angelic as she appeared.

"We will just have to prove to him that you are worth it, Jane," He finally said, lifting her hand to his lips for an affectionate kiss. "Such a task shall not be too hard."

Jane smiled at his words, her eyes growing heavy. While her fever was finally gone, she was still feeling incredibly weak. Edward – knowing his sister needed her rest – bid her goodnight.

When he finally climbed into his own bed, he could still hear the murmur of conversation traveling up the stairs. While it was still early – the young man could hardly keep his eyes open after such a night of dreams as the one before.

To think, he had actually questioned whether he would pursue Miss Darcy. He was now convinced that despite what he heard from Bingley, the young lady was exactly as he had thought on the first night of their acquaintance. Only now, she had insulted his sister as well as his father.

If there was one thing that Edward was, it was incredibly protective of his family. Yes, they could be silly at times – but he recognized them for what they were. They were the people who had raised him and had molded him into the man he had become and for that he would always be grateful. No, rich heiress was going to change his feelings for them. They could be embarrassing but he loved them without a doubt.

As he turned over, it did not occur to him that there was a certain heaviness in his heart that had not been there the night before. He was to happy in his knowledge that no disturbing dreams would assault him in the night, given his refounded distaste for the snobbish Miss Darcy.

* * *

Two days passed and Jane seemed to get better every hour. When on the sixth day of their stay, it was announced Miss Georgiana Darcy would be joining the Netherfield party – Edward decided to announce his and Jane's departure as well. They would leave early the next morning.

"But Miss Bennet has not even had the chance to dine with us yet," Mr. Bingley noted, his disappointment evident. "She cannot leave until she is at least able to descend the stairs."

"She plans to join us for dinner tonight, sir," Edward commented, having already discussed it with his sister that morning. "She has greatly improved due to your diligent care and incredible staff."

Bingley was too excited at the promise that Miss Bennet would attend dinner to even acknowledge the compliment. Edward smiled at the young man's enthusiasm. But while his face showed great happiness, his other guests remained silent. Edward had expected no less.

It had been hard avoiding the ladies during the past two days of his stay. He had busied himself with the gentlemen by playing a few rounds of billiards and escaping the house for impromptu hunting trips with them – but he had not yet again taken a meal with his host.

While it was easy for him to say that now that Jane was better and able to carry on a coherent conversation, he preferred to dine with her - he hated to admit that most of what he did was in avoidance of Miss Darcy.

After their almost dance, they had not spoken a word to each other. While Edward always made sure to bow to her whenever their paths crossed, she rarely acknowledged him. It was as though they had reverted back to the way they were at the Meryton assembly. She would not look him in the eye and he had absolutely no desire to spend more time with her than necessary.

What she had said was unforgivable.

Thankfully, it was not irreversible. All Jane had to do was show Bingley that she felt for him what he felt for her. Edward felt confidently that Mr. Bingley would see through Jane's shy mask. Though their acquaintance was of a short duration, it had been obvious from the beginning that they had held great esteem for each other. If only they could see it, too.

However – when Jane attended dinner that night - she was much as she had always been.

While it was obvious that Bingley was paying her special attentions, especially in the music room after they had finished supper, Jane continued on as she had before. While she certainly blushed more whenever in his presence, she spent just as much time conversing with Bingley's sisters as she did with him. She paid him no special attentions, at least not with the same veracity as he did her.

Edward knew he was not the only one who observed this. He could see Miss Darcy's stare locked on his sister for nearly the entire night and could tell Mr. Bingley's hope was slowly dwindling.

Luckily, Miss Bingley chose that point to request that someone provide them with music. Miss Darcy immediately declined – not desiring for any attention to be put on her. She was much too busy observing her friend with Jane Bennet to entertain the guests gathered in the room.

"Surely you play, Miss Bennet?" Miss Bingley asked, everyone well aware that she already knew that the young woman did not have a pension for instruments. "Would you not delight us with a tune?"

While Jane blushed deeply at the request, she remained composed. "I am afraid I have never been a good enough student to learn to play an instrument. I would be honored to hear you play, however."

Miss Bingley gave her brother a pointed look – causing his face to redden at such an overt gesture – before sitting down at the bench of the pianoforte. After such an implication, one that needed not be said, the room silenced. Even Louisa seemed a bit embarrassed at her sister's behavior.

Jane took all of it in her stride. Though she was still pale, Edward could not believe how serene she appeared. It took all he had in him to school his own features so as to not let Miss Bingley think she had rattled him.

When the next morning was upon them, Mr. Bennet sent his carriage to pick up Edward and Jane at first light. They thanked their host and hostess for their hospitality, but the Hursts and Miss Darcy were absent.

Just as Edward was stepping into the carriage, he turned back to give Netherfield one last glance. Out of the corner of his eye, he observed Miss Darcy watching them closely from what he presumed to be her bedroom window – her expression was unreadable. His lips pursed as he turned from the scene.

"I am glad to be returning home," Jane remarked as Edward busied himself by fretting over the blankets that covered her lap. The carriage lurched forward and finally they were on their way back to Longbourn. Edward breathed a sigh of relief.

"I am, too."


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N:** _Wow this is my longest chapter yet! The funny thing is - this is probably my least favorite part of the story to write. I cannot stand Mr. Wickham, especially this one (you'll get to see what I mean in the next few chapters hopefully). Also, yes I know that Wickham attended Cambridge, but since there is no male Darcy in this one who also attended university - I decided to change it to Oxford._

 _So this is a nice long chapter to reward you for a longer wait. I feel it prudent to mention that I am moving back to university in a few days and will be a bit more busy than usual. So, if you do not see an update for awhile, have no fear! I have not lost interest in the story! However, a move is a big undertaking and will put my writing on pause for a few days as I get settled and start classes. Continue reviewing and following, you guys are truly what keep me going with this story!_

 _austenauthoress_

* * *

 **Chapter 9**

Life returned to normal at Longbourn.

With his eldest children back under his roof, Mr. Bennet could finally breathe a sigh of relief. He could not fathom what had ever made him think that Mrs. Bennet would grow out of her nervous prattle as they got older. Her nerves and exclamations only seemed to get worse with age.

For two days, the rains kept any travel between estates at a minimum. Edward grew nervous that somehow Miss Darcy had been able to convince Mr. Bingley that Jane did not return his affections, but he chided himself for such thoughts. Surely it was only the weather that was keeping him from calling.

As the third day dawned, a bright light was what awoke the young Mr. Bennet. At the first glimpse of sun, he resumed his daily walks. It was upon his return from one of these walks that he was informed of a house guest who was about to descend upon them.

"Mr. Bennet, certainly you jest!" Mrs. Bennet was saying as Edward entered the drawing room. He had not bothered to change his attire, something that instantly caught his mother's attention. "Eddie, what are you about walking around in such clothing? You must change this instance!"

Edward looked down at his slightly sweat drenched jacket and cravat. "Whatever do you mean, mama? The only ladies present are those that I am related to."

He did not believe it was possible, but Mrs. Bennet became even more flustered at his attempt at cheek. "What am I to do with you, boy? We are to have a guest arriving for dinner!"

At this, the young man perked up.

"Mr. Bingley?" Edward asked hopefully, all joking aside as he glanced at Jane. The young lady remained quiet, her eyes focused on the floor. Surely if it had been Mr. Bingley, she would have seemed more excited.

"No," Mr. Bennet answered from behind his newspaper, folding it over temporarily to respond to his son's inquiry. "I have received a note from Mr. Collins: our estranged cousin."

Edward deflated visibly. That was definitely not who he was expecting. "The man who will inherit if I die? Or if I fail to produce an heir?"

"Precisely," Mr. Bennet said, returning to his reading in an attempt to block out his wife's exclamations at such speak.

"Oh, I cannot bear the thought of such a misfortune befalling my darling boy!" Mrs. Bennet was crowing, everyone choosing to ignore the fact that she had been bemoaning that same child earlier. Edward was surely not her favorite – but he was the one whom her security rested upon. She pointed this out quite frequently despite her _distaste_ for such a subject. "What does this hateful man wish to accomplish on a visit here?"

Edward did not know exactly why the man would wish to heal the breach between their families now. How did he plan to do it? What kind of olive branch was he desiring to exchange? He could not keep himself from speculating.

"Perhaps he wishes to take inventory of Longbourn," The young Mr. Bennet suggested, half in jest. "Or maybe he has a plan to make a mysterious illness befall me?"

"Eddie!"

"Oh, mama," Edward squeezed her shoulders affectionately, whilst she tried in vain to escape his grasp. "I was just voicing what we were all thinking."

"Certainly not," Mary spoke for the first time since her brother had entered the room. She pushed her spectacles up the bridge of her nose primly. "He is a man of the church. I doubt that he would have any ill intentions."

"Well," Mr. Bennet sighed, folding his paper and standing from his chair. It seemed to him that he would not be getting any further reading done with all the females of the house speaking their minds. "Whatever his intentions, he will be gracing our table this afternoon. Make of that what you will. Perhaps he wants to marry one of our girls, Mrs. Bennet. You always speak of how widely their beauty is known."

Kitty and Lydia made sounds of disgust at the thought of a clergyman as a husband. Mary chose to ignore both of their noises and continue on with the book of sermons in her hand as her mother's nerves grew exponentially.

Mrs. Bennet followed her husband from the room, her nervous exclamations able to be heard from down the hall.

Edward turned fully towards Jane, noticing the same disappointed look from before on her features. Not able to stand the sight of his sister unhappy, the young man reached for her hands. Cradling them in his grasped, he tried to reassure her.

"He will call soon, Janie," He promised quietly, squeezing her hands tightly. "They were expecting another guest to join their party. Miss Darcy has probably arrived."

Having been informed by Edward that the eldest Miss Darcy was expecting her younger sister to join her at Netherfield, Jane smiled at the possibility. She did not allow herself to grow too excited though.

"I am not expecting a call – I assure you. He has made me no promises."

Frustrated at his sister's reluctance to see Mr. Bingley's affection, Edward tried to assure her once again. "He told me of his intentions, Jane. I _know_ he will eventually come to call on you."

Jane said nothing in return, though her clear blue eyes looked up at him with hope.

Silently, he cursed Miss Darcy for ever putting a doubt in her head. A small part of him worried that Jane would end up getting her heart broken all over again, and he was not sure he could bear watching her go through another heartbreak.

He was not sure whether she'd be able to bear it either.

* * *

Mr. Bennet's guess as to Bingley's delay had been right. After two days of heavy rain, Georgiana Darcy was finally able to complete her travels to Netherfield from Matlock.

"Georgie!" Frances could not contain her excitement as the footman assisted her sister's descent from the carriage – grabbing her in an embrace the moment her feet hit the drive. "Oh, how I have missed you."

They had not been separated long – but the sisters had always been particularly close. Despite the fact that six years spanned between them in age, their shared shyness had always united them. However, they were very different when it came to character.

While Darcy was considered to be haughty and proud, because admittedly she was – Georgiana was another story all together. She could appear to be both traits but in reality she was just timid and inexperienced – making it hard for her to move through unfamiliar society. Frances hoped her attitude would change once she was presented, but with the minor setback of several months ago, the elder sister had no idea if coming out would make much of a difference now anyways.

Georgiana hugged her tightly, burying her face in her sister's neck. "Oh dear, sister. I am so glad to see you."

Bingley was finally able to break the sisters apart long enough to give his greetings. Frances was ecstatic to see that Georgiana seemed to carry herself a bit lighter since their last meeting. She even smiled shyly during her curtsy just like the old Georgiana had done before the near elopement.

Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst came to fawn upon the girl, causing her to draw into herself once again. The afternoon was drawing to a close and supper would begin soon. Frances was able to make their excuses by claiming that Georgiana needed to settle before attending dinner.

They were quiet as they ascended the stairs, the younger of the two pointing out several chandeliers and paintings of interest. She recognized them from Darcy's lengthy letters.

A few hours later found them in Georgiana's room.

"What a charming house," Georgiana commented as her sister assisted her with her necklace. "I see why you desired me to come to Hertfordshire. It is quite a beautiful county."

While both young ladies had maids who attended most of their needs, it was a tradition for them to help fasten each other's jewelry and chat before dinner. It was what they did when amongst their Fitzwilliam relations and it was what they had done while their father was alive.

Darcy grunted slightly at the comment, closing the clasp at the back of her sister's pale neck. She was in an improved mood from before with Georgiana now here, but she was hardly one to look forward to a meal shared with the Bingley sisters.

"How are our cousins?" Frances asked, desiring to get off the subject of Netherfield and Hertfordshire. "And our aunt and uncle?"

For the first time in months, she heard Georgiana release a giggle as she allowed her curls to fall back into place around her neck. "Everyone is fine. Richard has returned home so Lady Matlock has been attempting to convince him to propose to you."

Frances grimaced at the thought. While she loved her cousin, there was certainly no romantic affection between the two of them – no matter how much her aunt wished it. She did not feel for him what she had felt for Mr. Bennet.

 _'Stop it,'_ An internal voice warned her. She knew that kind of thinking would only lead to one thing: him. She had done so well shutting him out of her thoughts for the past few days that she could not allow herself to relapse now.

"I see your mood is improving," Frances commented, once again avoiding the subject. "I have not heard you laugh in months."

Georgiana's cheeks burned red as she looked at the ground and away from the mirror. Regretting bringing it up, Frances attempted to take back her words.

"Dearest," She turned the girl around, holding her hands within her own – using an affectionate tone that only seemed to come about when she was with her sister. "I did not mean to discompose you. I am just unable to contain my happiness at your recovery. I had feared you would never do so."

Georgiana smiled, though it did not meet her eyes. "I have been better. Being around the Fitzwilliams has helped tremendously."

"Yes," Darcy commented, her face darkening briefly. "I imagine they have proven to be better companions than I was."

"Oh, Anne. I did not mean such a thing!"

Frances allowed herself a small smile. "I know, Georgie. I am merely frustrated at myself. I wish I could have been what you needed at the time, but I was too upset."

"At me…" Georgiana commented, lowering her eyes to the floor guiltily.

"Never," Darcy assured her, giving her hands an affectionate squeeze. "I was not mad at you, for you were not the one at fault. _He_ is the guilty party for playing such a horrid trick on so innocent a girl. He knew how trusting you were and took advantage of it. You have no reason to feel guilty for that."

She had said it all before, but it seemed as though Georgiana needed constant reassurance that she was not to blame for what had gone down. Frances pulled the girl into a quick hug before holding her at arms length to give her a once over before dinner.

"I am so happy that you are here now so that I do not have to suffer alone."

Georgiana's brows creased. "I have to say I am a bit surprised. I was under the pretense that Mr. Bingley had other guests?"

"They left several days ago," Frances tried to comment nonchalantly, not betraying any of her emotions. "Miss Bennet recovered and was able to be moved to her home."

"It's a shame," Georgiana sighed, not meeting her sister's eyes. "For I was hoping that there would be more guests to distract the Bingley sisters from me."

"Georgie!"

"Their endless compliments cause me great embarrassment," Georgiana insisted, having been in their company enough to know of their manner. A blush appeared prettily on her cheeks. "And I find their attempts to throw you and their brother together quite tiresome."

Though there was genuine sentiment behind the young girl's words, there was a tone of jest about her manner that so encapsulated her old self that Frances could have cried. However, she didn't – knowing that acknowledging the fact would only cause Georgiana to dwell on her memories once again. The proud older sister could not fight the urge to gather the younger in an embrace though. Luckily, Georgiana did not seem to mind.

* * *

Edward had come to the conclusion that he was not impressed with Mr. Collins.

He was amusing, to be sure – but not in a way that should be taken as complimentary. His looks contributed to a small part of that. He was a short man, of a much smaller stature than Edward – with a slight waddle to his walk. This could be attributed to the gut that seemed to swallow his middle and hung slightly over his waistband. He was not attractive by any standards, but by the way he carried his person – you could tell he thought quite highly of himself.

It was not his looks though that caused Edward and Mr. Bennet such great amusement, but at the way he simpered and conversed as if he had planned out every interaction beforehand.

"My Bennet cousins," He greeted them when shown into the drawing room. The family stood as was required in acknowledgement of the parson – though Kitty and Lydia's curtsies were slightly less refined than usual as they giggled at the man's appearance. "It is a pleasure to finally make your acquaintance and heal the breech that has plagued our family for many years now. I offer my humblest apologies for not trying to make amends any earlier – it was truly a fault on my part."

All this he said before even proper introductions could be made. Edward and Mr. Bennet shared an amused glance before the master of the estate finally jumped in to introduce the man to his family.

Edward did not fail to notice that when his father made each of his children known to the parson, Mr. Collin's eyes were constantly drawn to Jane. The younger brother was used to men admiring his sister – she was a beautiful creature after all – but there was something in the man's eyes that disturbed Edward. While Mr. Collins' hungry gaze was constantly drawn to Jane, it was not to her face or soft curls, but to her figure.

For a man of the church, Edward was not very happy with the parson's conduct.

Eventually the family and their guest sat down for dinner. Unfortunately for Jane, Mr. Collins received the seat directly across from her and he did not allow the opportunity go to waste.

"Miss Bennet," The man addressed her, his voice soundly taking on an inappropriate highhandedness. "I am not sure that you are aware of my current living."

Seeing that Mr. Collins' explicit attention caused Jane discomfort, Edward chose to jump in. "We actually do not know much about you at all, Mr. Collins," The young man admitted, taking a sip of wine. "In fact, all we do know is that should I die, you would inherit. Beyond that, your life is quite a mystery to us all."

Not clever enough to catch the sarcasm in Edward's voice, Mr. Collin's smiled at the opportunity to boast of his occupation and patroness. "While it is true that I would inherit upon your brother's death, Miss Bennet," Mr. Collins once again singled out the eldest Bennet, something that did not go unnoticed by Mrs. Bennet, "I do not have much of a desire for such an event to occur. My noble patroness, Lady Catherine de Bourgh – has provided me with quite a living. My house abuts her estate."

Jane's brows rose in polite interest; which Mr. Collins took as a positive sign to continue. "I'm sure you have heard of her – Lady Catherine de Bourgh?"

The table looked at him in silence. The man was un-phased, however.

"She's the daughter of an earl," Mr. Collin's boasted, eating a forkful of potatoes. He allowed this information to sink in as he chewed. "Her daughter is also the epitome of what a lady should be. She's an heiress to extensive properties and will marry well given both her breeding and wealth."

Jane attempted to look interested, but the rest of the family merely carried on with their meal. Lydia asked Kitty to pass the rolls and Edward and Mr. Bennet took great gulps of their wine. While the man should have been applying to Mary this entire time – her being the only sister truly interested in the clergy – he had his sights completely set on the eldest Miss Bennet.

In an attempt to draw the attention away from who she believed was the most eligible of her daughters, Mrs. Bennet took control of the conversation. "Has the daughter been presented in court yet?"

To answer her question, Mr. Collin's was forced to tear his gaze from Jane Bennet. "Unfortunately, she has not ma'am," The parson's face became downcast and his voice dropped into a whisper as if in fear the lady herself would hear him. "Her health does not permit her to appear much in society. It is a misfortune, indeed – I am sure that if her health were better, she would be the crown jewel of the _ton_."

His hostess nodded at his explanation but remained silent thereafter. The only sound in the room was that of the silverware against their plates as everyone attempted to finish their meal quickly to avoid more awkward conversation. A giggle could not even be heard between Lydia and Kitty – which was an unusual occurrence in and of itself.

Mr. Collins did not comprehend the awkward tension, choosing to continue on with one-sided conversation regardless of whether anyone was going to acknowledge his statements or not.

One topic though caught the attention of everyone.

"I thought that I may read to you from Fordyce's sermons after dinner tonight," At this – even Mr. Bennet looked up in surprise and distaste. "With such a large family of females, I believe the need for guidance regarding all things moral is especially important," He looked at Jane as he said this. "Although I am sure Miss Bennet is a great reader of such material as she is the absolute epitome of an upstanding young lady."

Jane blushed uncomfortably, her eyes returning to her plate. Edward could not resist poking fun at the man's claims. "I say, Mr. Collins. You are certainly full of compliments. Tell me, do you wait for such moments to present themselves or do you premeditate on what words will be said beforehand?"

Mr. Collins – not being nearly as clever and witty as the other young man – did not catch the implications behind such a statement. Instead he puffed himself up proudly, "I will admit to having come up with such delicate compliments before they are needed – however, I try to give them as unstudied an air as possible."

"Oh, no one would suspect you of such a thing," Edward reassured him, though his words were insincere. "You are lucky to possess such a countenance that makes it easy for you to get away with such practices."

The young man could see Mr. Bennet grinning over his wine glass. He had obviously caught his son's meaning. While his mother and other sisters looked bored, the corners of Jane's mouth had risen slightly. She gave him a warning glance out the side of her eye as Edward grinned back at her innocently.

When dinner was over, they joined together in the drawing room. As the girls adjusted themselves to ready for such a dull evening and Edward and Mr. Bennet downed a bit of port to ease the pain of what was to come – Mr. Collins cornered Mrs. Bennet.

"Mrs. Bennet," The lady in question gave Mr. Collins a dubious glance, fear clenching her heart as she anticipated what he wanted to ask. "As you are aware, my patroness has been very generous to me. My parsonage is not lacking in size. You are also aware that should your son not produce an heir or – god forbid – pass away early on in his life, Longbourn shall be mine."

"Oh yes, Mr. Collins. We are all aware of such a fact," Mrs. Bennet commented nervously. It was a thought that caused her anxiety near daily.

"Then you must know why I have made this trip to Longbourn," Mr. Colllins said, watching for her reaction. He knew he was a fine catch and fully expected her to be in raptures at his attention towards her girls.

The lady though continued on as she had before, willfully misunderstanding his motives. "No, I am sorry – but I truly do not know what you could be implying by coming to us thus."

"Well," The man smiled, believing that what he was to say was every mother's dream come true. "Since I may inherit Longbourn at some point in the future, I believe my best course of action would be to select a wife from the family that already resides here. What better way to improve our family's relations than by offering protection and security?"

Mrs. Bennet did not respond. She hated to even meditate on it – but it would not be a bad deal to have assurance that should anything ever happen to Edward, they would be secure in their own home. She had not produced both an heir and a spare and this was the punishment she would receive because of it.

"I feel it prudent that you should know that the eldest Miss Bennet has captured my particular attention," Mr. Collins admitted, his gaze resting upon the unsuspecting lady. Jane shifted in her seat, intent on a piece of sewing she had picked up out of the basket on the floor.

Mrs. Bennet hesitated only a moment. "Oh, but Mr. Collins, I am afraid that Jane is already expecting a proposal from another gentleman." When she caught his downcast expression, she decided to push the man in a different direction. "I know my Mary is no great beauty – however, she enjoys a good sermon and has many great accomplishments. She would make any man an excellent wife. Kitty is also a good option as well."

"Not the youngest?" Next to the eldest Miss Bennet, Lydia was the only other sister that even came close to her beauty. While her immaturity would be a hurdle he would have to overcome, she was definitely more pleasant to look at than the middle child.

"Oh, I do not think that she would do for you," Mrs. Bennet admitted. No, she was saving Lydia for someone much better than Mr. Collins. She was desperate but not _that_ desperate. After Jane married Mr. Bingley, Lydia would be thrown in the path of richer men – then they would not even have to worry about Mr. Collins at all. Between two rich son-in-laws, the Bennets would have no reason to fear destitution.

With that being said, the conversation came to an end.

The night continued on with Mr. Collins reading from Fordyce's sermons to the family. However, the Bennets were paying very little attention to the man. Finally, Edward and Mr. Bennet were able to escape the drawing room by citing estate business as their reasoning.

"What an interesting man," Mr. Bennet commented as his son shut the library door. Edward could not help but chuckle at his father's choice of adjective.

"Quite," Edward agreed, taking a seat in the chair before his father's desk. "I cannot approve of his attentions to Jane. To be a man of the clergy and be admiring a woman's figure as he is an absolute disgrace to the profession. A man of God should be worrying more about her character than her assets."

Mr. Bennet's brows rose. "I did not catch that."

Edward could not be surprised with his father's inattention. It would figure that when Mr. Collins was not saying anything amusingly ridiculous, his mind would be elsewhere. Remembering Miss Darcy's harsh criticisms from his stay at Netherfield, Edward chose to change the subject.

"I actually have been meaning to speak with you on a matter of the estate," The young man began slowly, watching as his father's face became more disinterested with the topic at hand. "I am not pushing you to read the material I have brought you. I was just wondering if you would accompany me on a visit to the tenants. I have a few ideas for next year's crops that I would like to run by them."

Mr. Bennet sighed, his spectacles sliding down his nose so that he could look at his son from above them. "We do not have the means to accomplish some of the plans that you have, Edward."

"We could if Longbourn's budget was adjusted to accommodate them," Edward reasoned, leaning forward in his chair. One could hear the passion in his tone, so intent was he on bettering Longbourn's lands. "You have been allowing mother too much freedom with housing expenses and trips to the milliner's. If we rearranged our income, we may be able to – " His father interrupted him at this.

"Now Edward, the last thing I want is to cause your mother to get in an uproar due to a decrease in her allowance," Mr. Bennet sat back in his chair, clearly bored with the conversation. "We live comfortably as is. I do not see any reason to change the way things are run around here. We are not suffering."

"Not necessarily us, but our tenants are," Edward tried to keep his tone even, fighting against his frustration. "You have seen their lands father – you have also seen the numbers that they are producing. While we may not be suffering now, at some point, our decrease in crops will reach the estate and affect the family. If you would just – "

"Edward," Mr. Bennet raised his hand to silence his son's pleas. "When you are master of this estate you may run things how you wish. What I know is that I would rather live in peace than in riches. I will not put up with your mother's constant complaints."

"But if you explain to her that it would be in the name of an investment of sorts – "

"That would make no difference to your mother," Mr. Bennet chuckled at the idea of his wife being sensible to such an idea. "What she wants now is far more important than what she will want later. She does not look ahead if it does not involve a possible chance of marriage for her daughters. You are aware of her character."

Edward did know his mama. She would definitely not take a decrease in her accounts lightly, but it would be for the good of everyone. Did his father truly not see this? Or was he really just concerned about the uproar his mother would start?

Sometimes, he could not understand his father's laziness. While the man seemed not to enjoy his estate business, every time Edward would volunteer to take some task off his hands – he would turn him down. While the men worked together when it came to dealing with the tenants and inspecting the fields, Mr. Bennet was hesitant in allowing his son to help him with financial matters.

Edward worried that this was because Mr. Bennet realized how unbalanced his accounts were. The young man had attended university and understood when numbers did not add up or started to decrease. His father was scared of his censure – that, or he just did not want to have to deal with it.

The men sat in silence – both lost in their own thoughts – before they decided to turn in.

Edward could not deny the disappointment he felt in his father. He loved the man and had always had a particular fondness for him – but it was moments like these where he truly questioned Mr. Bennet's strength of character. Was he really as negligent to his lands as Miss Darcy had accused him of being?

' _No_ , _the situation is not as bad as she claimed it was_ ,' Edward thought as he changed into his nightshirt. ' _She exaggerated in order to make my family look unsuitable. The fault is in her_.'

He could not help but doubt his own thoughts, he was just too prideful to admit it.

The young man drifted over to his nightstand and blew out the candle sitting there. Laying down in bed, he turned over on his side and gazed out at the moon that rested above the trees on the horizon. He loved Longbourn and all that it entailed. When he became master, he would make sure to take prodigious care of it.

* * *

The next morning appeared bright and clear. After the Bennets and their guest had finished breaking their fast, it was proposed that they all walk together to Meryton. Lydia and Kitty had found out from their Aunt Phillips that the militia had arrived in town and were eager to see the men in their redcoats.

The moment Mrs. Bennet heard such news, she was nearly pushing her children out the door. Edward was to be dragged along, even though he had already taken his morning walk, and Mr. Collins chose to join them as well. The youngest girls groaned at this and skipped ahead merrily to avoid his endless prattle and attentions.

Mary unfortunately was left behind to fend for herself against the parson.

Edward and Jane brought up the rear. The young man could not help but notice that his sister's hopes seemed to dim each day that passed without a visit from the Netherfield party. Edward was shocked that they had not at least inquired after his elder sister. He would never admit this to Jane however, so he kept to subjects much more promising.

Once they hit Meryton, Lydia and Kitty became separated from the group. The entire town was bathed in red with young soldiers milling about. In the middle of it all were the matrons of their society who were acting as though all their prayers had been answered.

Edward escorted Jane to pick up some lace from Mrs. Jennings and, by the time they were finished at the store, Lydia and Kitty had already returned to their designated meeting spot with two young soldiers.

One was of a light complexion and easy manners while the other was darker but with an equally pleasing countenance. Both seemed to be un-phased by the young girls' flirtations – however, had Edward been paying closer attention, he would have seen that one paid his youngest sister a bit too much attention. This was something so hard to catch though when one presented as happy of manners as he did.

"Jane! Edward!" Lydia waved over her elder siblings, bouncing lightly on to her toes in excitement. Kitty beside her was not much better. "Come meet the officers!"

Both Jane and Edward blushed in embarrassment at their sister's behavior but did as she bid them.

"This," Lydia touched the blonde young man's shoulder, "is Lieutenant Denny and his friend, Mr. Wickham." Both men bent at the waist as Jane and Edward curtsied and bowed respectively.

"How are you enjoying your stay in Meryton?" Edward asked the two, creating conversation. It was always nice to have new men around the town that he had not known since infancy. While most soldiers did not receive full educations, he had found that they happened to have some of the best of stories and anecdotes to tell.

"Very well," Denny answered, glancing at Wickham. "I had just been remarking to my friend that I had never seen such beautiful ladies in all my life." Lydia and Kitty giggled at the compliment.

At that moment Mr. Collins and Mary returned to the group and were introduced. When it was mentioned that they were expected home, the young officers offered to accompany them to Longbourn as they had not yet had the opportunity to enjoy a romp across the countryside. The youngest Bennets were ecstatic at the prospect and accepted their company readily.

Somehow, Edward and Mr. Wickham ended up falling in step beside each other. They made pleasant conversation about nothing in particular. The moment universities were mentioned though, they realized that they had both attended Oxford.

"I would have preferred to attend Cambridge," Mr. Wickham admitted. "I am afraid that my father was merely a rich man's steward. My godfather paid for my education and it proved to be cheaper at Oxford."

Edward chuckled. "I would have preferred Cambridge as well – but an education is an education no matter where it is obtained. My father had attended Oxford, so I felt like it was the right path to take."

The young men conversed as they walked. Edward began to take a real liking to the man. In nature, he was very much like himself – witty and knowledgeable. He was sure the soldier would become the object of choice for many mamas with unmarried daughters.

They had just reached the fork in the road that diverged towards Longbourn and Netherfield, when a group of riders caught the young people's attention. It did not take them long to figure out who it was that approached on horseback as the party was led by a particularly vibrant Mr. Bingley.

"We were just coming to call on you!" The man said in greeting as he rode a bit ahead of his party before coming to a stop and sliding from his mount. Near instantly, his eyes met Jane's. Again, the young lady appeared demurred and favored the ground. "I wish to invite you to the Nethefield Ball. We have just selected a date."

The three riders that had been traveling with their host came forward. Edward easily recognized the potbellied Hurst and dark-haired Miss Darcy – but the third rider he had never seen before. She rode upon a white mare in a light blue habit. Though he could see that she was young – about the same age as Lydia or Kitty he reckoned – she was certainly more developed than was apt for girls her age. While she did not resemble the lady riding next to her, Edward drew the conclusion that _this_ was the Georgiana Darcy the Netherfield party had talked so much about.

From far away, the girl seemed to have pleasant enough features. She did not have the harsh look of her elder sister and did not seem to carry herself in the same self important manner that Edward had long attributed to Miss Darcy. In fact, she looked to be quite shy and meek.

But that all changed when she drew closer.

It was almost as if the girl had been struck by a bolt of lightning. One minute, she was shyly approaching the group to be introduced, then the next she was frozen atop her a mount. A look of horror appeared on her features as she turned a worrying shade of ashen white.

It was not Georgiana Darcy's expression that captured his attention though. It was her sister's.

While the young lady had been approaching the group in obvious reluctance, Edward could not fathom what could inspire such a dark reaction. The moment Miss Darcy made eye contact with Mr. Wickham, it was as if all life had been drained from her face. Then there was anger.

Edward watched as his new friend visibly paled under such a glare. The young man met her stare with one of his own, neither desiring to look away before the other. Edward found that he could not look away either.

It was the sound of Georgiana's mare running in the opposite direction, that finally prompted the eldest Miss Darcy to take off after her. Within seconds, both were out of view.

During this entire exchange, Bingley had not noticed any strange behavior as he was too focused upon his angel. Jane smiled at his securement of her hand for the first set on the 26th of November, but said no more. When Bingley realized that half of his party had taken off without him, he hurriedly jumped on his steed.

Before he could go, Lydia called out after him. "Mr. Bingley, you must invite Denny and Mr. Wickham – as well as all the other officers!"

"Of course," Bingley turned to the young men, tipping his hat. "You are both welcome to attend."

Then he and Mr. Hurst were gone.

"Lydia, you cannot invite other people to someone else's ball!" Edward quietly scolded his younger sister. It seemed that every time they were in public, she tried something new to embarrass them. If she remained unchecked, who knew what kind of disgrace she could bring on her the family.

"La!" Lydia laughed, grasping on to Lieutenant Denny's arm once more. "Eddie, you know Mr. Bingley does not mind. He is so amiable that he would never wish to leave others out."

Edward had to fight the urge to roll his eyes at the girl's familiar antics. It was the same response he received every time he tried to reprimand her.

The look exchanged between Wickham and Miss Darcy was forgotten for the rest of their walk. When they arrived at Longbourn, Mrs. Phillips was already there conversing with her sister. Once she saw the young soldiers enter the yard, she invited them to a card party being hosted at her home on the morrow. Since Colonel Forster had already accepted the invitation, the young men accepted as well.

Mr. Wickham had not said much after the uncomfortable exchange – in fact – he had returned most quickly to his former self. He was still witty and charming, yet there was some kind of darkness settling around him.

Edward could not help but be curious as to what it could be attributed to.

* * *

"Georgie!" Frances called out as she sped behind her sister's mare. Not wishing to spook the horse with Georgiana on top, she remained a careful distance from her. "Georgie!"

A confused group of stablehands ran out to assist the young lady from the horse as they reached the stables, but Georgiana slid down before they could even come to her aid. Not even bothering to hand them the reins, the young girl took off running towards the house with her sister not far behind her.

"Georgiana!" Frances said forcefully, as her sister began a quick ascent up the stairs. Already she could hear her sobbing and it broke her heart. Knowing that both Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst were far too nosy for their own good, she hoped desperately that they would not hear the commotion and come to investigate.

Georgiana ran for her room where her sister soon joined her. Seeing her sister face down on her bed with heart-wrenching sobs escaping her lips, Frances could not help but tear up. She walked quickly over to the bed, sitting on the side and stroking her sister's hair as comfortingly as she could with her hands shaking as badly as they were.

"Dearest Georgie," The girl murmured, fighting her own tears in an uncharacteristic moment of weakness. "I am so sorry that you were forced to face him. If I had realized he had joined the militia, I would not have allowed you to come here."

Frances tried hard to keep the anger out of her tone – however, it was too potent to hide. "To believe that Wickham of all fools is being held in a profession of such honor and valor is surely a jest in itself. How such a wicked man was able to earn a commission is beyond me. It is no matter though, for we shall not stay here any longer."

Though still crying, Georgiana looked up at her sister in confusion. "What?"

"It seems as though are only option is to leave," Darcy spoke reasonably, tenderly stroking her sister's curls. She hoped desperately that all the improvement she had seen in Georgiana had not been undone with the events of the day. "I will not let him hurt you again."

"But we cannot allow him to toy with the young ladies of Meryton, Anne!" Georgiana insisted, scurrying off her bed to stand before her elder sister. "I would never want anyone to fall prey to the same act I did."

Frances stood as well, her resolve firm. "My first concern is you and I will not allow him to come anywhere near you. We truly have no other choice."

"Are you sure?" Georgiana asked, wiping a stray tear from her pale cheek. "Should we not make his superiors aware of his nature?"

"I refuse to share with anyone what he has done to you," Frances stated, placing her hands on the young girl's shoulders. "It could ruin your reputation, dearest. I would not want any of this to reflect badly on you."

As Georgiana pondered such words, Darcy began to gather her sister's things. While she usually allowed the servants to pack for them, Wickham had unsettled her greatly. She hardly even realized what she was doing in that moment, but Georgiana did.

"Can we not give every other young lady the courtesy then of protecting their reputations as well?" She tried desperately, not wishing to leave Meryton just because of George Wickham. He had affected her joy enough; he would not send her running again.

Darcy thought on the matter. After such a close encounter with Wickham, she had instantly gone into her flight instincts. While she usually was one who would firmly stand her ground in the face of adversity – when it came to Georgiana, she was different. Her sister was not like her. Georgiana was delicate and sweet natured and shy. The best course of action for her would always be to demure rather than fight.

However, what she said was true. Wickham truly was a danger – not only to them – but to all the young ladies of the town. Not to mention that he had a particular fondness for both gambling and drink and was known to leave quite large debts behind any place he resided in.

Now, he had joined the militia. Dishonorable and despicable as he was.

' _That's it!_ ' Frances suddenly stopped in her packing, an idea finally coming to her. Turning to Georgiana, she gave the girl a small smile. Such an expression was not often found on her face with her much more serious demeanor and instantly caught the attention of her younger sister.

"You're right, Georgie," Frances admitted. "I believe there may be a way for us to approach this. I need to write to Richard though and see if he could possibly obtain papers that show Wickham's previous debts."

"How do you know that he has not already paid them off?" Georgiana questioned, still not completely aware of the young man's true nature.

The eldest Darcy scoffed at the idea. "Georgiana, that was most likely the reason he tried to get you to elope with him at Ramsgate in the first place. He needed money to pay off his debts. He's taken refuge in the militia so that no one will question whether to trust him or not. How he has managed to escape debtor's prison until this point, I do not know."

At the mention of Ramsgate, Georgiana's head bowed. Frances walked over and sat on the side of the bed once again, wrapping an arm around her sister's shoulders and pulling her close. The younger returned the embrace, reveling in the comfort her sister provided.

"He has fooled many a person," Darcy encouraged her softly, before releasing a long breath. "He's even fooled me before."

"You?" Georgiana asked, her light eyes becoming wide. "How did he pull that off?"

"The same way he pulls it off with everyone else," Frances could not bite back the bitterness in her tone. "By possessing such happy manners that cause no one to question his intentions. It will not work for long though. If Richard can obtain the papers, he will be able to present them to Colonel Forster and hopefully prompt him to end Wickham's commission."

"So…we do not have to leave?" Georgiana asked – her obvious desire to stay evident in her eyes.

Darcy pursed her lips. She had still been planning on leaving, if only to avoid the awkward confrontations with Wickham that were bound to happen in such small a town. Georgiana looked so hopeful though that she could not bring herself to disappoint her.

"No, we do not," Frances confirmed, prompting a smile from Georgiana. "However, we will not be riding about town until that man is gone."

The younger nodded her head in agreement, though she could not hide the genuine joy within her at the promise of their stay. Noticing this, Frances could not help but ask what seemed to intrigue Georgiana so much about Hertfordshire.

"I do not know," Georgiana admitted truthfully, looking down at her slippered feet as she tried to think of a way to describe what she was feeling. "I don't think that is the reason I necessarily wish to stay. After running from Wickham and Ramsgate last time, I find that I am tired of running. Why should we be the ones that have to leave every time that man is around?"

At such wise words coming from her sister, Frances could not conceal the affection that rose in her. She had been so worried Georgiana was not going to be able to recover after such an experience, that she had not taken the time to wonder if perhaps she would grow from it instead. Grabbing the girl for another hug, Frances pulled her into a warm embrace.

"How very right you are, dear sister."


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N:** _Long time no see! So sorry it took so long to post this, but like I said - I started university again. It was hard finding time to write during this first week, but I am determined to see this fanfic through. Hopefully you enjoy this installment!_

 _Now, I want to clarify something about the dreams I write in this story. They are not a look into the future, they are certain emotions personified. I am not a big fan of people using dreams to for tell the future, so I am most definitely not doing that. In this chapter, Edward's instincts/sense is what causes his dream._

 _I'm hoping to update sooner this time around! Thank you for reading and reviewing! Keep it up!_

 _austenauthoress_

* * *

There was quite a turn out at the Phillip's house.

Men in red coats were everywhere, much to the joy of Mrs. Bennet and her younger daughters. Well, all except Mary who insisted upon playing for everyone and exhibiting her "talents" rather than chasing young men around the room. Jane as well abstained from such activity.

There was a noticeable absence of the Bingleys and the Darcys, though. The occupants of the room could not help but speculate over it.

"Were they not invited?" Jane had whispered to Edward, desperately trying not to be overheard. She did not want to sound overly anxious, but could not help but ask. Surely, they were not avoiding society.

"I do not know," Edward answered honestly, scanning the crowd. "I find it hard to believe that our aunt would neglect to invite them. Perhaps, they had a prior engagement."

This could be possible given that – while there was a good turn out for the night – many had been forced to decline the invitation due to the spontaneity on the Phillips' part. It really was more of a spur of the moment engagement than the usual assemblies and dinner parties.

Knowing this, Jane accepted Edward's word with minimal hesitation and was soon in conversation with Charlotte Lucas. Being left alone, the young man skimmed the crowd to find the man he had talked to the previous day: Mr. Wickham.

He had hardly been able to sleep with his curiosity so aroused. What had Miss Darcy done to Mr. Wickham? And what kind of history did they share? A look so angry could not have been conjured over a minor offense – surely, there was more to it than that.

Finally, the young Mr. Bennet was able to find who he was looking for.

Mr. Wickham stood beside both Colonel Forster and Lieutenant Denny, who were being bombarded with questions by both Lydia and Kitty. Colonel Forster's new wife, Harriet, did not seem to be acting any better.

"Mr. Bennet!" Wickham greeted him as he stepped forward in the crowd. The young soldier appeared to be greatly relieved to have an escape from the silly conversation ensuing between the other two men and the young women. "It is good to see you again!"

Edward bowed his head in acknowledgement. "Indeed, it is. I was just coming to inquire whether you were still enjoying your time here after being exposed to so many of our faults?"

He was referring to the desperate matrons who kept throwing the dark young man hungry looks while whispering to their daughters. Wickham knew exactly what he was talking about.

"It is quite strange," The man admitted, rolling his eyes in the direction of the ladies. "As a poor man, I am not used to being the center of so much attention."

"A mother can sometimes be persuaded to throw away her dreams of a rich son-in-law in the face of one in possession of a red coat or a little bit of land," Edward stated simply, taking a sip of wine.

Wickham nodded his agreement, also taking a swig from his glass. Edward watched as the man seemed to be at war with himself. Finally, he hesitantly spoke.

"How long have the Darcy's been in Hertfordshire?" Wickham tried to make the question seem casual – but Edward could see the nervousness in his demeanor. Just as he had the day before, the mention of the Darcy's made him uneasy – even when he was the one bringing them up.

"Not long," Edward answered honestly, excited at the prospect that perhaps the young man was going to share what troubled him so in regards to the family. "The eldest has been here for little more than a month and the younger has just joined her recently."

Wickham nodded, absorbing the information. Being too smart for his own good, he was able to detect some distaste in the other man's tone when talking about the sisters.

"Are you well acquainted with them?" He asked innocently, posing it as a polite inquiry.

Edward did not notice such an act – his dislike beginning to cloud the good judgement he seemed to be so proud of. "I am not. What I know of the one does not leave me desiring to be often in her company."

Wickham's brow quirked at this. "The elder?"

Edward nodded, but said no more. He did not need to – Wickham had already seen his weakness and was intent on using it to his advantage. He would not put it past Miss Darcy to try and turn the town against him, so he was going to make it as hard as imaginable for her.

"She seems to leave such an impression as that for many people," Wickham lamented, his act instantly drawing the Bennet son in. "I am afraid she is not much like her father, unfortunately."

Edward's brows furrowed at this information. "Her father? Were you acquainted with the man?"

"Oh yes!" Wickham pointed at two unused chairs beside the wall – inviting Edward to sit. "The man was the godfather that I mentioned to you in our previous conversation. My father was his most trusted steward."

Edward sat, surprised by such a revelation. So this man shared quite an intimate connection to the Darcys. One would think that with such ties would come loyalty and affection. However, that had not been what he had witnessed the day before.

Wickham guessed at his confusion. "You are wondering about the seemingly bitter feelings between Miss Darcy and myself – are you not?"

Edward hesitated for a moment, before finally nodding in affirmative. "I am afraid I could not help but notice the strange behavior between you and the Darcys. I am sure though that there must be foundation for it."

The men's conversation was interrupted by an exclamation from Lydia as she laughed loudly at something Colonel Forster had said. Again, Edward was oblivious to all but his own thoughts, which seemed to revolve around the strange behavior of Miss Darcy. Wickham's eyes followed young Lydia hungrily for a moment before he checked himself.

"Of course there is foundation for it," He commented, taking another drink. In an attempt to cool his ardour, he turned back to the young gentleman sitting beside him. "If you would call breaking off an engagement with me after her father's death foundation enough for a slight dislike."

Edward was astonished. Of all the things he had imagined the lady doing, this was not one of them. Somewhere in the crowd, someone accidently dropped a glass. Such a moment was the perfect way to describe the surprise he felt.

"Wait," The young man said, not entirely sure he had heard correctly. "You mean to say that you were once engaged to the eldest Miss Darcy."

Wickham nodded, tilting his head towards his companion. "It was not public, but that does not change the hurt I felt from such a low blow. She will not even acknowledge it ever happened when asked about it now."

Edward was silent for a moment. Ignoring the nagging feeling within him that told him something was off about the young man's story, he decided to inquire further.

"What exactly happened?"

Wickham thought for a moment, going over the story he had already prepared the night before for such an occasion. Frances Darcy had never had an easy time making friends, especially with those whom she deemed below her. Surely, there had to be some dislike for her already amongst the town. All he had to do was solidify their already low opinion of her.

"I will start from the beginning," Wickham said, leaning forward in his chair while lowering his voice. "I have known the Darcys since I was born. Miss Darcy and I had quite the friendship while growing up. She was just a few years younger than I and I truly saw her as a little sister for most of our adolescence. It was not until we hit our school years that things began to change."

Wickham paused, taking a deep breath as though such remembrance caused him pain. "You see, the Darcys needed an heir. Despite their lands not being entailed, Mr. Darcy desired a son. After the younger Miss Darcy was born and Mrs. Darcy died during the birthing of her, it was determined that the elder would become the heiress of Pemberley. Such an event was not what Mr. Darcy had planned. That's why he turned to me."

"I was like the son he never had," The young man shared, false admiration saturating his tone. "He treated me as though I was the heir he had always wanted. After my father's passing, he took me under his wing and began to pay for my schooling. I learned beside Miss Darcy of estate business before she was sent off to school as well as I. By that time, I was already feeling a certain affection toward her and the late Mr. Darcy saw that as well."

Edward swallowed the jealousy that seemed to swell within him at the mention of the man's previous feelings for Miss Darcy. "Did he approve?"

Wickham nodded, vigorously. "Yes, in fact – he voiced his desire of the relationship while on his deathbed. He shared with Miss Darcy that he hoped she would accept my hand, knowing that I was going to propose in the near future. By this time, we had already been courting so it seemed to be the natural assumption that such an event would take place. It did and she accepted without hesitation."

"Then what happened?" Edward could not help but ask, his curiosity once again getting the better of him.

"We were engaged for awhile before she decided to call it off," Wickham said, shrugging his shoulders. "Her reasons for doing so were cited as me being too poor to be a sufficient husband to her or master to her lands. I would have brought nothing to such a marriage and, for her, that was what was most important. Her family did not approve either which just solidified her resolve. Not only did she disregard her father's hopes at our alliance, but she also refused to give me the living he had promised me should things between us not work out. I was for the church and would have loved to have received the opportunity to serve my own parish."

If Edward had though he was stunned earlier, it was nothing compared to now. His dislike for Miss Darcy seemed to grow with every passing moment. He disregarded any suspicion he would have felt otherwise at the man's story in favor of the slander of the eldest Darcy. After what she had said in regards to Jane, he was sure she had to be the most awful of young women.

Seeing that Mr. Bennet was buying his story, Wickham decided to take it further. "Unfortunately, the young lady has been painting me in a very bad light. You witnessed her younger sister's reaction to me. I have known her since birth just as I have the elder and now am not allowed to even so much as speak to the young woman. Miss Darcy desires to pretend that I do not exist, which is why I guess she was so unhappy to see me yesterday. She believed that I was far enough away for her plan to work. However, since I have to make my money through the militia because of her disregard of her father's words, I believe it is she who should be more embarrassed at such a situation."

The story made perfect sense. Perhaps, that's what should have been a red flag for the young Mr. Bennet. While the whole story was completely plausible, there were quite a few pieces missing. Such details were unneeded though when one already had such a foundation of dislike.

"That's dreadful," Edward commented, placing a sympathetic hand on the young man's shoulder. He felt gratified that Wickham had felt compelled to tell him of his trouble. "How betrayed you must feel."

Wickham heaved a sigh of remorse. "Indeed. Both sisters are incredibly high handed and will place their alliance to their class higher than any external bond they have beyond that. It's unfortunate, for their father was such a kind man. It does not matter anymore anyways – she is now promised to her cousin, who is the son of an earl." He disregarded sharing that the man was the _second_ son of an earl and not at all in love with Miss Darcy as he made it seem.

Once again, they were interrupted by the incessant giggling of Lydia. Wickham then turned and invited Edward to join him along with several of the other officers at the tavern in town after dinner, but the young man declined. He had too much to think about now then to be out partying with the regiment.

The fact that he had ever had designs on Miss Darcy bothered him greatly after what he had just learned. To think he had been so close to exposing himself to such ridicule and disappointment – it made him gracious that he had overheard her conference with Bingley. How much hurt would he have suffered at her hand? Would she play him the same way she had Mr. Wickham?

These were the questions that seemed to plague his mind as he lay in bed that night. He berated himself for not going with his first instincts in regards to Miss Darcy – he had been right all along. She was nothing more than a spoiled heiress who, although she may be clever and extensively well read, could not see past the economic situation of those around her.

But even these new thoughts would not expel her from his mind.

After being out of her company for so long, Edward thought that his attraction to her would go away. A lot of it had, her cruel words regarding Jane destroying most of his passion, but alas – there was still a part of him that wanted her.

That was evident enough in the fact that he once again dreamt of Miss Darcy.

* * *

 _He was standing in the middle of a richly adorned foyer. Besides the footman that was posted at the door, he seemed to be alone. That's when he heard the distant strains of a violin._

 _The sound was refined, that he was certain of – but there was an emotion behind it that had not been there before. He could recognize Miss Darcy's playing even without seeing her. However, this music was not the passionate number that he had heard her play before – it was different._

 _Following the sound, Edward came upon the familiar music room that he had visited before._

 _She stood by the pianoforte – her usual spot – and played carefully with her head bowed over her instrument. From his spot in the doorway, he was able to see the shaking of her arm as she cradled the violin beneath her chin. It was almost as if she was struggling to hold it up. She wore a beautiful dress of midnight blue that complimented her complexion – though it was paler than usual._

 _He stepped towards her, his footfalls drawing her attention to the door. She had not noticed that anyone had been listening. Instantly, she put her instrument down._

 _Edward's heart broke as he took in her face – tearstained and splotchy – remnant dollops of liquid still sliding down her cheeks. She had been crying._

 _"My dear," He murmured, stepping closer without hesitation. With hands outstretched, he cupper her elbows in his hands and attempted to get her to look at him. "Tell me what has disturbed you so."_

 _The young lady was quiet for a few moments, the tears still coming as she attempted to find the words. Even though she pondered them for several seconds, she was only able to come up with four short ones._

 _"Today is the day."_

 _Edward's brow furrowed in confusion. "What do you mean? What is today? Surely, it is not our anniversary yet?"_

 _Miss Darcy gave a short, humorless laugh at his half jest – noting the slight distress that seemed to accompany it. "No – for if you had forgotten that you would not have been met with tears. I certainly would not be having so much trouble with my words either."_

 _Edward gave a small smile at this characteristic show of will. Whatever she was upset about certainly could not include him. If she was upset with him, she no doubt would have let him know it._

 _They were silent – the only sound coming from the fireplace as the flames popped and crackled. The noise of several maids scrambling about to finish their nightly duties could also be heard in the hall. But from Miss Darcy, came no words._

 _He pulled her closer to him, enfolding her in an embrace. "Being cryptic will only make me more curious - and you know that once I am curious, there is no use trying to hide anything."_

 _The girl released a short puff of air that sounded close to a huff. She certainly was aware of his relentless curiosity. "It was over once you walked in the room. I am unable to keep anything from you when you look at me with such concern."_

 _Edward smiled at this, kissing her forehead lightly. He said no words though – waiting for her to finally share what was on her mind. After a few moments of heavy silence, she confessed in a whisper._

 _"My father died on this day several years ago," Miss Darcy's voice quivered – her words muffled by the material of his cravat. "I have lost count of the years – I have tried so hard to forget it. I do not know why it all of a sudden upset's me so much, but it does. I have never missed him as much as I do now."_

 _At her words, Edward squeezed her even tighter. "That is perfectly understandable. I am close to my father, as well – so I cannot even imagine what it would be like to lose him. It is okay for you to be upset."_

 _"I do not believe that is what's causing me so much grief this time around," She finally pulled back from him to meet his eyes, her own still filled with tears. She placed both her palms on his cheeks and spoke with conviction. "I think what has bothered me so much is that he does not get to see you. He does not get to see how happy I am. That is all he ever wanted for me and, now that I have it, he does not even get to be a part of it."_

 _Edward could feel the shaking in her hands and in her voice. He raised a hand to hold her palm against his cheek, nuzzling the skin there before answering. "He does get to see. While he may not be a part of our current happiness – he is watching. He sees how wonderful of an heir you have been for him and sees how happy you are and how wonderfully you've managed Pemberley."_

 _She gave him a watery smile in return. Her arms wound their way around him once again, snuggling into the fabric of his coat. Edward was content to remain holding her – thinking she had laid the subject to rest – but right when he thought she was going to suggest they retire, she surprised him. Just as she always did._

 _"He would have liked you," He heard her whisper – her words so quiet that they were almost indistinguishable. "He would have liked you very much."_

 _It was one instance that left him absolutely speechless._

* * *

When Edward awoke it was with a heavy head and heart. The feeling in his breast he could easily ignore – the pounding in his head, however – was a different matter entirely.

That was one reason Edward had always avoided liquor – it made him feel terrible. Even just the little bit he had allowed himself after Wickham's story left him with a sensitivity to both light and sound. Maybe he should just try to stick with dinner wine and a small amount of brandy with the men after dinner rather than indulging in the spirits he had at the dinner party.

He could not help it, though. Wickham had given him a lot to think about and for some reason it had not sat well with him. He was not one made for unease and was not used to being out of touch with his feelings – so this all unsettled him greatly. Luckily – the feeling he was experiencing – would easily keep him from ever becoming an alcoholic lost in his cups. Nothing was worth feeling the way he did.

When his senses finally came to – and he was ready to face the day – he stood from his bed and dressed. After a short walk in the crisp autumn air, his head had cleared enough for him to see some sense.

He _needed_ to talk to Jane.

Seeking out his elder sister in the gardens, he told her everything. Well, not everything exactly. He told her of Wickham's story but did not include what Miss Darcy had said about her. With this information omitted, Edward was not surprised at her thoughts.

"Miss Darcy does not seem like a young lady who would willingly disobey her father's wishes," Jane said. "She also does not seem like someone who would allow her family's opinion to alter her own. From what Mr. Bingley has said of her and from what we have seen, she does not seem like the type of young lady to be coerced by her relatives."

Edward wanted to laugh at such a statement. Miss Darcy seemed like the exact type to allow her family's wishes and the _ton's_ opinion to conquer her own will. After all, wasn't that the reason she had tried to convince Bingley into believing his sister was a no good fortune hunter who could never be good enough for him due to her sorry state of poverty.

"I have not seen anything that could make me question such evidence," Edward admitted - sitting beside her on the bench after pacing for the entirety of his story. "In fact, from what I have seen of her – I would not have any trouble believing that she could do such a thing. To break off an engagement and deny a man a living is not beyond the character of the young woman that I know her to be."

Jane's brows furrowed at such a statement. "Is this from what she said of you at the assembly?"

Edward did chuckle at this. "No. Perhaps I was angry over that before but my distaste has much more substance at this point. My vanity is not so fragile that a single hit would make me despise someone forever."

His elder sister nodded at this answer. However, he could see that she was still curious as to where his conviction came from. "I have to say that I was impressed with her treatment of me while I was sick. Every time I awoke, either her or her maid were by my side. She was very diligent and never made me feel awkward or like I was imposing."

While Edward himself had been impressed by the lady's treatment of Jane, her words remained with him. "Well, it is not of importance– she disregarded her father's wishes and has allowed a poor man to pay for it. All this because she is too prideful to honor her commitments and face the criticisms of her peers."

"If that is true," Jane conceded, reluctantly. "Then it truly was a cruel way to treat Mr. Wickham. Hopefully, in the end, justice will be served. Maybe in time, it will be revealed as one big misunderstanding."

Edward huffed at this, doubting that that could ever be the case. He said nothing though – as around that time, Mr. Bingley and his sisters stopped by for tea. It was again noted that the Darcys did not join them.

Mrs. Bennet saw it as a slight while Edward preferred to see it as a justification of the story he had just heard. Obviously Miss Darcy was hiding something or she would not be trying so hard to avoid society.

* * *

While the Bingleys visited with the Bennets, Frances Darcy was hard at work penning a letter to her steward. A small riot of workers had broken out after the implementing of a new technological advance she had invested in and the man was scrambling to handle it without her there. Such a problem would have called her back to Pemberley before, but Frances was surprised to find herself reluctant to leave Hertfordshire.

She had been so eager to leave two days ago, that she could not account for such a change of heart. Well, she could – but she did not want to admit it.

 _'You do not want to leave him,_ ' She told herself, closing her eyes and stilling her pen. _'Even with Wickham here, you still wish to be with him.'_

Shaking her head to rid herself of such thoughts, she returned her focus to the paper before her. It was the second letter in two days that had required careful deliberation. The other one had been a plea to her cousin for his assistance in the foiling of Wickham.

"Will you not join me for a ride?"

Frances turned towards the door to see Georgiana had just entered her suite – riding habit already donned. Ever since they had met Wickham on that day, her younger sister had been nervous to venture out of doors. However, it seemed that she had finally overcome such a fear. Frances was not sure if she had yet.

"I actually need to finish this letter for my steward and post it," Frances replied, turning her back to her sister. "You will not go out alone though – if you insist on going. You must take someone with you."

There was silence for a few moments. Frances hoped that Georgiana had decided to go on her ride without her – but then she heard careful footsteps coming towards her. Intent on her writing, she did not look up even when Georgiana's long blonde curls came into view on her right side.

"I wanted you to come with me," The girl admitted, casting a downturned expression in her sister's direction – her pout evident. Frances huffed at the act.

"Georgie," The elder sister warned. At such a firm response, Georgiana straightened. Her eyes, however, refused to meet Frances's. "I told you that I am not able to go. I am not telling you that you cannot, but I am too busy to take a ride at the moment."

Georgiana went quiet, her gaze still turned towards the floor. Frances was sure that her sister would follow her orders and do as she pleased, but that was not to be the case. The moment Frances had turned back towards her letter, Georgiana spoke again.

"We cannot hide away here," She insisted, kneeling by her sister's chair so she would meet her eyes. "Please, Anne. Do not lock yourself away over him. Richard will take care of it. I refuse to allow him to steal away my joy any longer. You said we would not be riding to town, but you never said anything about taking a ride around Netherfield."

Frances was silent. Never had her sister questioned her orders before she had come to Netherfield. She was both proud and terrified at her new found will. Once again, she was struck by the maturity that Georgiana suddenly possessed and heartily ashamed of her lack of it.

"I'm sorry, Georgie," She finally said, apology evident in her tone. "I promise I am not trying to hide away from anything. If I were, it would be for your sake only. It's just that I have received news of trouble at Pemberley and I am afraid I have not truly been my self in weeks. I'm all out of sorts, it seems."

"Because of me?"

"No," Frances assured, turning to face her sister once again. Instead of remaining in her seat, she pulled the girl towards the settee that resided in front of the roaring fire. "You are most definitely not the one who has made me lose my wits. I am afraid Wickham is not the reason either, despite how much he wishes to be. He may have made me have a lapse in judgement a few days ago, but I am quite certain that he will get his due."

"Than what is it?" Georgiana asked, gripping her sister's hands in her own. Never had she seen her sister so altered - even after Ramsgate. "Rather, _who_ is it?"

Frances hesitated – not fully certain what to say. She could not tell her sister of the man who seemed to haunt her dreams and disable her senses. To do so would be to profess a weakness and that was the last thing Georgiana needed to hear right now – especially when she was the one having to deal with the repercussions of a near elopement.

Her sister had more sense than that though. "Is it Mr. Bennet?"

The surprise on Frances face was evident. "How did you come to such a conclusion?"

"You have never talked about a man so much in your letters before," Georgiana shared, a small smile appearing on her young face. "While you certainly adore Mr. Bingley – I have never heard you bestow such compliments on him."

"I hardly remember what I wrote to you in those letters," Frances admitted, still dazed from her sister's acuteness. "I was trying so hard to give you a good enough distraction that would leave you without a moment to spare to think of Wickham or Ramsgate. I cannot even remember what compliments I gave the man."

"Only that he was very witty and provided Miss Bingley with a good sparring partner," Georgiana said, once again tightening her grip. "But I am right – am I not? You admire Mr. Bennet."

Frances was reluctant to reveal such a secret part of her heart. A place that even she had not had the time to peruse. She could hardly admit to herself the feelings she had for the man, what would make her share such a thing with her sister? The lady stood and began to pace.

But when she finally turned back towards her sister to deny such an accusation, she could not help but notice the slight smile that had refused to leave Georgiana's countenance. Regardless of all that had happened, the girl was still as hopeless of a romantic as she had always been. Such blind faith in such a fickle emotion caused an unfamiliar warmth to fill her being.

"I do not know what I feel," Frances shared honestly, facing the fire and resting a hand on the mantle. "It does not matter. He is not of our circle and such a match would cause an outcry in our family and society."

"But you do feel something for him?" Georgiana persisted, ignoring the last part of her sister's statement. "You may not be able to identify it, but what you feel is not nothing – correct?"

Frances shook her head. "I cannot allow this base instinct to cause me to doubt my rationality. You are not even out in society yet. This kind of thing would ruin your chances of ever finding a respectable man."

"Besides," Frances continued, facing her sister once again. Her dark eyes met Georgiana's lighter set with firm resolve. "Love has never been a part of my ideal of the future. It was my downfall once before and I will not allow it to be again. I thought I had lost my heart to a man of lowly means once and nearly had to live a life of misery due to my foolishness. You know exactly how that feels, Georgie."

At this statement, Georgiana hung her head. Frances knew bringing up her sister's near elopement was low, but she had to make the girl see reason. If she did not, who was to say Georgiana would not make the same mistakes in the future. She had allowed her feelings to get out of control in regards to Mr. Bennet and she would not allow Georgiana to follow a similar path.

But her sister was persistent. She may not have been very witty or quick – but she was determined. Much like her older sister.

"We have both been tricked, but allowing such a thing to rule our judgement – would be allowing those people to win," Georgiana insisted, tears coming to her eyes. She did not cry, but her voice shook under such emotion. "What if he could make you happy?"

"Your happiness means more to me," Frances shared, truthfully. "I could never ruin your chances of finding a good husband. I could never be that selfish."

"And I could never be so selfish to allow you to make such a sacrifice," Georgiana stood now, walking to stand beside her sister. Though she did not look into the fire anymore, her eyes were trained on the floor. "If you truly feel something for him – do not fear to pursue him on account of me. I will be fine. You forget that the Fitzwilliams would never allow something so insignificant, ruin my chances."

"Aunt may not help you if I don't end up with Richard," Frances remarked dryly, prompting a quiet giggle from her sister.

"They all just want you to be happy," Georgiana grabbed her sister's hand and squeezed her fingers. "I just want you to be happy. I have put you through so much these past months that to see you in such a joyful situation would bring me joy as well."

Frances had trouble meeting her sister's steadfast gaze.

"I know it's scary, but please do not deny yourself happiness because of me," Georgiana pleaded. "Do not let our family's opinion mess with it either."

Frances, uncomfortable under such scrutiny and still not fully ready to admit her feelings for herself, finally gave her sister a wry smile.

"If I promise to ride with you – will you leave me to my thoughts?" Darcy asked, a single brow raised as she tilted her head. "And stop insisting I share my feelings with you when I am not ready to share them even with myself?"

Georgiana gave her a bright smile. "Of course! Now come take advantage of this cool weather with me while we can."

Though Darcy was still conflicted, she could not help but smile at her younger sister's exuberance. What a different Georgiana she was from the one she had left this summer.

* * *

 _"You must promise me"_

 _"Anything," Frances insisted, holding tightly to her father's hand. Already she could feel him slipping away from her._

 _He lay in his bed at Pemberley – a single candle the only source of light in the room. The man seemed to struggle with air as he coughed before looking back towards her. She could see tears in his eyes, which also caused the emotion to rise in her own._

 _"Please promise me you will be happy," His voice shook from effort. Another cough caused him to pause before continuing. "Do not settle. Marry for love. Do not allow a man to come in and control you and Pemberley. Choose someone competent who will care for you as I always have. You are, and will always be, my dearest Anne."_

 _A tear slid down her cheek at his gentle insistence. She squeezed his fingers in reply._

 _"I promise," She finally was able to voice – though she had to choke it out. "I will not let you down. I will not give you cause to worry."_

* * *

Frances sat up in bed – tears fresh on her cheeks.

She had not dreamt of her father in years. So repressed were her memories that she could barely recall how many years had passed since his passing – but reliving such a scene had caused her to quake.

And she had relived it – for it had been the exact conversation she had had with him on the night of his death. It was the conversation he kept bringing up with her in those last months of his life. He had been so concerned that she was going to panic obtaining an inheritance and take a husband as quickly as she could – but she hadn't.

No, she had taken it all on by herself. But he had not wanted her to suffer under such a burden forever. He wanted her happy just as Georgiana did.

The question now was: would Mr. Bennet be the one to make her so?


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N:** _I'm so sorry I'm posting this so late again! I did not realize how hectic things were going to be when I returned to university. I have had quizzes and assignments and even a test already. Through it all though, almost every night, I have been writing. This chapter is a bit slower, since it's mostly used for set up for what's about to take place (which I think is gonna catch you pretty off guard) but I hope you enjoy it regardless! I still love these characters and this story so don't worry if I take a while between posts. Just know that I am always working on it! All your love and support in the reviews keep me going!_

 _austenauthoress_

* * *

 **Chapter 11**

A fortnight passed quickly in Hertfordshire. As the leaves began to fall in the latter weeks of November, things in Meryton began to change.

With the militia now in town, there were many instances of young housemaids ending up in compromising positions with them. While one may think this inspired concern in such a society – the gossip surrounding such events seemed to be relished by the mothers whose daughters were not going astray. The prospect of one of their own possibly falling for a man in a red coat was too great a possibility for any of them to show any real worry.

The Gardiners, with all four children in tow, also descended upon Longbourn briefly before continuing to town. Edward was excited at the chance to talk to his uncle about possible deals that could be made in order to pursue some of the ideas he was trying to implement on the land, but somehow the conversation always seemed to return to concern for the Bennet girls and the men that were calling on them.

"Mr. Collins seems to enjoy Mary's company," Edward Gardiner commented while taking a sip of his coffee. He watched his young nephew for any sort of reaction, but was disappointed to see indifference.

"He is a fool," The younger Edward sighed, putting a hand to his head wearily. "I truly believed I was able to find conversation for any instance, but that man speaks more than any I have ever known. Mary would never accept the hand of such a man – she is too quiet to have a happy union with him."

"You forget that young ladies do not have the comfort you do," His uncle reminded him, patting the boy on the shoulder. They both watched as Mr. Collins conversed with Mary. "While you are guaranteed somewhere to live after your father dies, your sisters are not so fortunate."

"I would never turn my sisters away," Edward defended, surprised his uncle would even suggest such a thing of him. Mr. Gardiner raised a hand to pause the boy in his attempts at defense.

"I am referring to if anything ever happened to you," The man clarified with a tilt of his head. "Mary may believe that it is her duty to ensure that – should Mr. Collins inherit – her family will have somewhere to go. It would be very 'Christian' of her."

Edward watched as his Aunt Gardiner jumped into Mary's conversation with the man, effectively cutting him off. Perhaps she could see how much danger Mary was in of being taken in by the man? While this instance did inspire some concern in Edward for his younger sister, he just could not imagine the pragmatic girl going after so weak of a character.

"Tell me of Jane's beau," Mr. Gardiner asked, changing the subject. While he did harbor some concern for the middle Bennet child – it was Jane that he was truly worried about. "Does he write her poetry and sing her praises everyday?"

Edward smiled. "He might as well. He is very much in love with her – of that I am certain. He did speak to me once of his interest in her. We have not gotten to spend much time together since. Every time he comes to Longbourn, he is too busy making love to Jane to speak to me!"

Mr. Gardiner took comfort in such words, knowing that Jane had been led on before. But once Edward told him of Miss Darcy's scathing remarks, the man was once again worried for the heart of his niece. When Mrs. Gardiner walked over to them – she expressed some concern as well.

Edward also explained Wickham's story which left them both a bit skeptical. Mrs. Gardiner was surprised at such words coming from the Darcy heiress. Being a former resident of Lambton - she had a hard time imagining anyone of the Darcy family being so cruel.

"The Darcy's were always so generous," She shared, taking a sip from her teacup. "I question the validity of this Wickham's story. What has inclined you to believe him so?"

Edward's brows raised. "Trust me, Aunt. Should you meet him – you would think him a much more reliable source than Miss Darcy herself. His happy manners are very different from her cold hauteur."

His Aunt Gardiner gave him a pointed look. "You surely do not base judgements off of something as superficial as that."

"Of course not," Edward placated her, putting a reassuring hand on her knee. "I base judgement off of actions. After what Miss Darcy has said and done, I am afraid we will never be the best of friends."

Mrs. Gardiner did not look very convinced – but her affection for her nephew won out over her gut for the moment. If he was resigned to believe Wickham, then she would do her duty and trust his judgement.

Over at Netherfield – a fortnight passed in a whirl of activity. As time passed, Bingley became more attached to his lands. Darcy grudgingly had to admit that he was coming into himself quite well, despite her previous attempts at dissuading him from staying in Hertfordshire.

Frances had also just recently gotten a letter back from her cousin. Colonel Fitzwilliam had received her letter and had sent his reply express. At the first mention of Wickham, the man had immediately been on alert. He had not told her exactly how he was going to take care of it, but had assured her it was being handled.

Ball preparations were keeping the ladies of the house busy. While Darcy would have much rather ridden out with Bingley and Hurst, Caroline and Louisa had been monopolizing the Darcys time.

Georgiana tried her best to take it all in her stride but even she was beginning to get tired of the Bingley sisters' antics. While Frances had observed that Georgiana was much changed from the summer – she was still prone to shyness and distrust. With the two ladies not being the most genuine of characters, Georgiana tended to freeze up in conversation with them. Even with the younger Miss Darcy acting so strangely though, they still insisted that they needed both sisters to help with their planning.

In the middle of all of this, Caroline was still trying to get Frances and Charles together. While Bingley did visit Longbourn several times to call upon the Bennets, he was not given the opportunity to go as often as he would like with the preparations for the ball and the situation of his tenants looming over his head. Miss Bingley hoped that with some distance between himself and Jane, he would begin to see the merits of the Darcy heiress.

But, just as the old proverb says, distance does make the heart grow fonder. Every moment Charles spent away from Jane resulted in him falling more and more in love with her.

Darcy could see this and tried her best to discourage him from giving his heart away too soon. While she did not try so hard these times as she had before – her heart still at war with itself over the lively Mr. Bennet – she still wished to caution him just in case his instincts proved to be off. She decided that she would form her final opinion on the match when she saw them together at the ball.

Georgiana had tried desperately to get her sister to talk more about her feelings for Edward Bennet – however, no matter what she did, the young lady remained tight lipped. This was not unusual, for her sister was of a quiet nature and a stubborn disposition.

If only she had known how troubled Frances was over the whole thing, perhaps she would not have been so persistent.

* * *

On the morning of the ball, Frances was finally able to ride out before even the earliest of risers had awakened at Netherfield. While she knew that Georgiana would be upset over not receiving an invitation – she was desperate for alone time. It did not help that she knew she would have to spend time amongst society at the ball that evening.

Apollonia stomped noisily when she appeared at the door of the stables. Luckily, the stablehands had already awakened and were readying for the day when they saw her walk over the hill.

They bowed to her and went about getting Apollonia saddled. As Darcy stood there, she looked out over the landscape. The sun had just risen, the morning mist still sticking heavily to the ground. There was a chill in the air despite the warm sunlight that had begun to spill out over the horizon. She breathed in deeply, relishing in the smell of firewood drifting over the hill from the house.

Frances loved the autumn – she always had. Derbyshire autumns were especially beautiful. The arrival of the season always signaled the time for the harvest and holidays, which meant that she had no other place to be but Pemberley. This was one of the first times she had spent the season so far from home – but she had to admit that Hertfordshire was quite beautiful at this time of year.

Once Apollonia was ready – Darcy set off.

"I know I have been neglecting you," Frances admitted dryly, petting at her mare's mane. "But Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst have been holding me captive."

Her mount snorted, as though she knew exactly what she was talking about.

They rode out quite a way, reaching the fence that separated Longbourn from Netherfield by the time the sun had fully emerged over the horizon. While the cold air bit at her nose and cheeks, Darcy was convinced she had never felt so alive. After having to spend so much time with the Bingley sisters – closeted away in their dull drawing room – the outdoors was a splendid change of scenery.

She slowed Apollonia to a gentle trot. Not wanting to return to the house to quickly, the young heiress directed her horse to follow along the fence.

Surely, she should of known he would already be up and about. From her window – during his stay at Netherfield – she had observed him taking many morning walks. Even that foreknowledge though could not prepare her for the surprise she felt when she saw him.

There he was – sitting a top the fence with his chestnut hair blown back by the slight morning breeze.

Frances pulled the reins back to stop Apollonia, in fear that he would see her – but it was too late. At the sound of hooves, Mr. Bennet turned in her direction – his eyes instantly meeting her own. In that one moment, Darcy could have sworn she was robbed of breath, for she could not move no matter how much she wished to.

Edward gave her a smile that she perceived as teasing – however, the young man was not particularly happy to see her. After his last dream of her, he had avoided her society at all costs. Bingley had always arrived at Longbourn with either his sisters or by himself – but never with the Darcys. Ever since Wickham had made his appearance, both had been hidden away at Netherfield.

 _'She should feel guilty,'_ Edward thought justly. _'She's wronged a man of superior character. One who did not deserve the misfortunes she caused him.'_

Despite his ill-feelings towards the heiress, he hopped down from his seat on the fence post and executed a stiff bow.

"Miss Darcy," He greeted her, the same strained smile on his features from before. "What a pleasure it is to meet you out here."

Apollonia had advanced several feet, causing Darcy to stop her before they got too close to the man. Frances knew it was already compromising enough to be out here alone with him – it was vital that she kept her distance.

It took her a few moments, but finally she found her voice. "Indeed. How do you do Mr. Bennet?" Her voice was rough from the morning air, causing her tone to come across more monotone than usual.

Edward mistook this hoarseness as disinterest – not surprised at all at the lady's dismissive answer. "Very well. I am visiting a few of Longbourn's tenants today to discuss plans for next year's harvest."

Darcy was surprised at this. "Alone?" She asked in curiosity. While she knew from observing him that the elder Mr. Bennet was negligent to his lands – she had not realized that Edward took such an interests in the them.

Remembering the girl's comment regarding his father, Edward stiffened slightly. "Yes. My father is unfortunately experiencing pains from the cooler weather. When he is unable – I am usually the one who consults with the tenants."

Darcy highly doubted that what he said was true. She had seen Mr. Bennet before and knew of his negligence when it came to his own family. It was not hard to imagine that he treated his lands and tenants much the same. However, Edward Bennet's apparent care of his prospective estate made Frances even more impressed with him than she had been before. This respectable trait of his put her in grave danger of falling for him even harder than she already had.

Not knowing what to say in response – Frances remained silent. There was a certain tension in the air – and while Frances believed it to be from shared desire – Edward believed it was from the mass amount of dislike on both sides.

"What has brought you out here so early in the morn?" Edward asked politely, though he wished if she was not going to say anything substantial, she would leave. Her stare unnerved him greatly and he knew whenever she looked at him that she was trying to find some defect in either his person or his character. She had made it very clear the night they had met that she was not impressed with him.

Edward would have been surprised to know that Darcy did not stare at him to find imperfections though – at least not anymore. She had done so in the beginning due to her growing fear of the feelings he invoked in her, but things were different now. In fact, after her talk with Georgiana she had spent quite a bit of time meditating on whether choosing to pursue Mr. Bennet would be all that bad of an option.

After avoiding him for so long, she had turned into Bingley almost. It was truly as though his absence from her life had made her feelings much more clear. Sure he had little to no wealth and his family was an embarrassment, but she didn't see why he should have to pay for their flaws.

"Miss Darcy?" Edward asked, breaking her from her reverie. "Are you alright?"

Embarrassed that she had forgotten to answer, the girl nodded. "Yes, I just must be heading back."

The young man smiled – happy that the awkward confrontation was over. "Of course – do not allow me to keep you from your pampering."

Frances once again mistook his smile and secretly hoped that he would ask her to dance a set with him – however he did not. Thinking that he was simply unsure of her own feelings for him, she brushed it off.

"Goodbye, Mr. Bennet."

"Goodbye, Miss Darcy."

When the young lady had ridden off, Edward's expression dropped. How such a woman could criticize his family's behavior when she was no better, astounded him. She felt herself so above her company that she could not even bother to exchange pleasantries. She would never do for him.

In the same moment that he was deciding himself against her, Frances was resigning to her fate. She would perhaps allow this man to have a chance at her heart.

She did not realize that it was already his and that he was in no mood to take it.

* * *

Netherfield was bathed in lights and quite a sight as carriages rolled down the drive. Music could be heard from the orchestra inside and at just the prospect of dancing with a handsome man – many of the young lady's hearts were aflutter. Nearly everyone in town had come to witness what kind of party their new rich neighbor would have.

Though most of the meddling mama's knew that Mr. Bingley only had eyes for the eldest Bennet, that did not stop them from dressing their daughters to their best advantage. If they couldn't capture Mr. Bingley's eye, then perhaps they would be able to catch Mr. Bennet's or one of the Lucas boys'.

Edward did look quite handsome in a dark suit – complete with jacket and cravat. His mother had insisted upon him paying closer attention to his appearance today to make a good impression with the Bingleys. Edward did not mention to her that they had visited their house several times and seen him in less than formal attire, for she was much too distracted by his sisters' outfits to argue with him about his.

He had to admit that his sisters all looked very pretty. Jane, of course, was an angel in pale white with her curls held in place by pearl pins. Lydia and Kitty both had worn different variations of pink gowns, with the younger's a darker shade than her older sister's to bring out the dark eyes her mother claimed all men were captivated by. Even Mary had attempted to appear at her best advantage in pale green – her spectacles still sitting primly on the bridge of her nose.

When the Bennets arrived, they were greeted by the younger Bingley siblings. Caroline was acting as hostess for Charles, forcing her into a role of civility she would have rather not been placed in. Always willing to show off her skills as lady of the house though, she bared her torment with a smile.

"It is so nice of you to come," She greeted, sticking her hands out for Jane to take. Charles seemed to be pleased with the fondness she showed toward the lady – not picking up on how strained it was due to his distraction with Jane's smile.

After Jane was welcomed, Bingley moved on to shake his hand. "Mr. Bennet, it is very good to see you. It truly has been too long."

Edward agreed with the man and then allowed him to greet his parents and other sisters. Looking around the room, he noticed the presence of several red coats. He was curious to see if Wickham would show up with the Miss Darcys in residence.

The house was warm and the crowd was thick. The men were looking for partners for the first set. Seeing Charlotte over in the corner – very much alone – Edward went over to visit with her.

"Miss Lucas," He bowed his head, just as he always did when he greeted her. It was always so strange to be so formal with someone you had known since you were in cloths. "I see you do not have a partner for this first dance. Can I perhaps tempt you to dance with me?"

Remembering Miss Darcy's words from the assembly, Charlotte's brow rose. "Surely, that statement does not still bother you."

"Oh no, my dislike has a more solid foundation than that. I am not petty, Miss Lucas," Edward assured her, hand still outstretched out to take her own. She accepted it, though not without throwing him a wry smile at such a comment.

The guests all lined up for the first dance and once they began to play a lively jig, one popular at a country ball, there was not a sober person in the room. Edward had always enjoyed dancing with the eldest Miss Lucas, her easy conversation and dry wit much like his own. While she certainly was not as lively as he was, her intelligence and manners made up for anything she was lacking.

As they danced, Edward glanced down the line to see Bingley and Jane also engaged in the set. Bingley could hardly take his eyes off Jane for a moment – so captivated he was by her. Seeing the young man look on his sister with such admiration, warmed Edward's heart. Surely, they would be courting by the end of the night.

"Mr. Bingley seems to be fond of Jane still," Charlotte commented, drawing his attention back to her as they linked elbows and executed a turn.

"I do believe he is quite in love with her," Edward remarked happily, never missing a step.

Charlotte pursed her lips for a moment, hesitating as they joined at the elbows again. "But how does Jane feel for him?"

Edward's brows creased. "The same – of course. The feelings are mutual."

The young woman gave him a skeptical look. "Do not say it as though it should be obvious. Jane may feel that way within, but nobody would be able to tell with the little regard she shows him when they are together."

"What?" Edward asked in surprise – instantly on the defensive. The words Charlotte was speaking sounded too much like what Miss Darcy had been talking to Bingley about. Surely, Charlotte did not feel the same way as she and believed that Jane was just entertaining him for his fortune?

"Stop getting defensive, my friend," She placated him, recognizing his tight features as an expression of frustration. They joined hands and walked in a circle. "I am not implying that she does not feel for him as he does. Jane's shyness though does not do her any favors."

"She's modest," Edward insisted, frustration still evident in his tone. "A woman is told she is either too shy or too brazen. Is there any satisfying this society?"

"If I had secured a man of half as much consequence as Mr. Bingley, I would at least show him more attention than just a smile," Charlotte argued as the dance neared its end. "We are all fools in love but if Mr. Bingley is not secure in her affection – he will move on. He is too unsure to be someone to propose to one who treats him just like any other man of her acquaintance."

As the dance ended, Edward and Charlotte stood across from each other – bowing and curtseying respectively. They clapped politely for the modest orchestra before the young man grabbed for her hand and placed it within the crook of his elbow. Charlotte could see that he was still frustrated with her – but she was not taking back what she said.

Edward delivered her to Lady Lucas and Maria who stood on the side with his mother. Charlotte gave him another apologetic look, but he excused himself and went to get a drink. Hearing Charlotte's words had just reinforced what Miss Darcy had said before – though much more kindly. While Edward could definitely see that Jane was perhaps more demure than other young ladies, he also knew that most could see her shyness and attribute it all to that.

* * *

"You look beautiful."

Frances turned to see her younger sister in the doorway – still clad in her day dress. Since she was not yet out, she would not be allowed to take part in the evening's festivities. Not that she would want to anyway, her disposition very similar to her sister's – although much less severe.

Every time Frances heard another family file into the house in the doorway below, her frown grew deeper and deeper. While Sarah had finished preparing her nearly half an hour ago, there she sat on the stool in front of her vanity – glumly staring at her reflection. Society exhausted her.

"Thank you," She finally voiced after a moment's pause. She turned in her chair to face her younger sister, a grim expression upon her features. "I should not enjoy a moment of it. I do so dearly wish you would be there to keep me company."

"Mr. Bennet is attending though, isn't he?"

Frances gave her a warning glare. "Yes, he is."

Georgiana smiled brightly. "Will you not give him a chance? From what you have told me, you seem to be quite taken with him."

The elder of the two rose from her place at the vanity, ignoring her sister's comment. Instead she turned towards the floor length mirror in the corner of the room. Her dress was of the darkest red and accentuated all her curves – despite her protests to the modiste to keep it simple. Sarah had pinned her curls back perfectly, not a one out of place. She had put a little more thought into her wardrobe that night, though she hated to admit why.

Used to the usual taciturn nature of her sister, Georgiana acted as though she had not ignored her previous comment. She walked over to the vanity table and retrieved the young lady's necklace – a strand of pearls that had once belonged to their mother.

Frances pulled up what little hair still sat upon the nape of her neck, allowing Georgiana to secure the necklace. "I should like to have a brother. I have not formally met Mr. Bennet yet – but, from what you have told me, I think I would like to be in his company very much."

Frances allowed a small smile to peek through her façade. "I believe the two of you would get along swimmingly. You both love to vex me – that's for sure."

Georgiana smiled sweetly at her but did not refute the claim. Instead, she suddenly became shy, pursing her lips for a moment before making a timid request. "Promise me – no matter what – you will not use me as an excuse for not choosing to marry someone you can esteem – " Darcy opened her mouth in protest, but Georgiana cut her off. "I am not saying this in relation to Mr. Bennet only. I am talking about in any situation. I don't want to cost you your happiness."

A rush of affection flooded Frances. She turned and embraced her little sister. "You are my happiness," She shared – squeezing her sister even tighter. "I would do so much for you."

"Just don't do this," Georgiana begged as she was released from the hug, both of her hands grasping her sister's. "The happiness I bring you can only be temporary. Once I marry and join my husband at his estate, what shall happen then? You will be stuck with a man that you have no affection for. That would make me more miserable than anything."

Frances looked like she was going to argue – but decided against it. Instead, she gave her sister a succinct nod before squaring her shoulders. "I guess I should make my appearance."

Georgiana giggled lightly. Knowing of her sister's distaste for dancing, she could not help but tease her. "Indeed, I believe the first dance has already begun. You will now have one less dance than everyone else."

Frances tried to hold back her amusement, but could not help the small smile that broke through as she walked to the door. There was no pause in her steps as she responded.

"What a pity."

* * *

Edward had almost forgotten about looking for Mr. Wickham, but once he saw Lieutenant Denny – he realized why he had been searching for him.

He amiably greeted the man, whom Lydia and Kitty were fawning over, and inquired over the soldier's missing friend. What he got in response was a hesitant look.

"Well," Denny responded slowly, glancing at the ladies who were still in their company. He swallowed when he realized they would not disperse, but continued on with his explanation anyways. "Mr. Wickham was actually dismissed."

"What!" Lydia exclaimed, stomping her foot. Wickham had been a great favorite of her's and she had been hoping to entice him for a dance. Kitty – following Lydia's lead – stomped her foot as well. "We had been so hoping he would come to the ball!"

Denny smiled at them apologetically before turning his attention back to their brother to gauge his reaction. Edward stood in both shock and confusion. All of the men of Meryton had seemed to enjoy Wickham's company so well – yet, apparently someone had found something wrong with his conduct to get him booted from the militia.

Edward recovered his senses quickly. "What prompted such a dismissal?"

Again, Denny seemed hesitant to share the information. "Oh, it was some past alleged misconduct. I do not believe Colonel Forster was ever given any proof. All I know is that he received a letter from someone of a higher rank who seemed to have a long history with him. For all we know, the Colonel could have been paid off."

At the words "higher rank," everything clicked for Edward. Miss Darcy had gotten Wickham removed from the militia.

Edward wished he could say he was surprised – but he was not. He had seen the way Miss Darcy reacted to Wickham that day, he should have known she would not allow him to stay in town after such an encounter. She probably knew that he was telling everyone what she had done to him and this was her only way to stop him.

"So he's gone from Meryton?" Edward clarified, wanting to receive the entire story. The moment he asked his question though, the room buzzed as the next dance was supposed to begin.

Lydia grabbed at Denny's arm just as he was about to give his answer. "Denny, you promised me this one!"

As she dragged the man off to the dance floor, Edward stood rooted in his spot. He had enjoyed Wickham's company and had relished in their shared dislike of the elder Miss Darcy – but now he was gone. The fact that Miss Darcy would take a man's only source of income away, after not giving him the money her father bequeathed him and breaking their engagement, only made him dislike her more.

The dance had already begun, but he was in no mood for such activity. Seeing some of the other men of town gathered around – he decided to walk over to them and relish in their company. Something caught his attention though before he was able to.

The eldest Miss Darcy was just now making her way down the stairs. He had not taken notice of her absence, but now put it off as fear that Wickham would be there to deliver a set down. However, the young Mr. Bennet could not imagine that such a nice and amiable young man would do such a thing to a lady in public.

Despite all harsh feelings, he was amazed to find what her appearance still did to him. Though he knew she was haughty and prideful – the way she carried herself and the way she looked – was highly attractive to him. Thankfully, Edward was not one to indulge in such lustful urges. While that may be true, it did not keep him from staring at her as she made her descent.

He could already hear some of the ladies commenting on how strange it was that she made such a late appearance.

"She thinks of herself far too highly," He heard one of them say as Miss Darcy reached the bottom and looked around the room broodingly. "The poor girl looks miserable."

Miss Darcy continued to look around the room for someone, but who – he did not know. But when her gaze met his, they both paused.

Edward, without another thought, moved forward. He pushed passed the chatting couples and made his way to the bottom of the stairs at the entrance. Then suddenly, he was standing in front of her.

"Miss Darcy, may I have the next set?" He heard himself ask her, his hand outstretched. He was determined to get some answers. He was surprised to find that she did not hesitate a moment before answering in the affirmative.

"You may."


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N:** _Surprise! I'm sorry it's taken so long - so many things have been going on in my life and unfortunately I lost all desire to write. I'm back now though after beating myself up thoroughly for being so remiss in my updates and I'm excited to say we have reached a VERY crucial moment in this story. This is a place where I have decided to diverge from the original - but do not fear - it's not too much altered. You will see what I mean once you read! Your continued support through follows, favorites, and reviews mean the world to me!_

 _austenauthoress_

* * *

 **Chapter 12**

Edward and Frances took their place in line with the other couples. Everything went quiet before the first strains of the violin had the men and women bowing and curtsying to each other. Edward was surprised to find that – as Miss Darcy curtsied – she had a slight smile on her face.

"What seems to amuse you so, Miss Darcy?" Edward could not help but ask as they joined hands and stepped close together. At the question though, Frances' smile had dropped – a sign of her nerves finally showing themselves on the surface. At a loss of what to say, she remained silent.

Edward was frustrated that she would not even do him the courtesy of replying. "Miss Darcy, I believe we must have _some_ conversation." He tried to hide the annoyance in his voice, by pairing the statement with a strained smile. He had said something of the kind the night of the assembly. "We cannot just stare at each other for the remainder of the dance."

Remembering similar words from him when they first had danced, Frances tried hard not to smile. While she was definitely beginning to take into consideration the possibility of perhaps ending up with the young Mr. Bennet, it would not do to be too flirty or simpering.

"I am obliged to you," She responded, her low voice tempered by neutrality – despite the fact that her heart was racing from being so close to him. They executed a turn – their hands finding each other's once again. "Tell me which topic you would prefer."

The dance brought them face to face, their breath mingling due to their closeness. Even Edward's heart began to pound from such proximity, though he could not tell if it was due to the anger he still held for her or the undeniable attraction he always seemed to feel for her. At the idea of that, he became even more frustrated.

"The number of couples in the room," Edward offered up as they stepped back, turning away from each other. Once they turned back around, the young man noted the skepticism written across his partner's face. "Oh come now, Miss Darcy. You cannot leave all conversation to me."

Edward had not expected a response, but one abruptly left her lips. "Do you often walk to Meryton?"

The man was taken aback by such a question, but he answered nonetheless. "Yes, I often walk to Meryton." Seeing this as an opportunity to question Miss Darcy on Mr. Wickham, Edward jumped on it. "It is a great way to make new friends. We had just made one when your party came upon us on the road."

Miss Darcy's face darkened, her nerves returning at the mention of Wickham. While Edward interpreted this as guilt for her wrong doings, it was actually an expression of her contempt. "Mr. Wickham is blessed with very happy manners. While he may be good at making friends, the same cannot be said about him keeping them."

Edward turned defensive. "He has not been so fortunate to count you among his friends."

His line of questioning confused Frances. "What do you mean?"

They stepped together, the song climaxing as they met face to face. "It is only that I am trying to make out your character," Edward responded honestly, his dark eyes piercing her own. "I find that you puzzle me exceedingly."

As the one circled the other again, Frances replied quietly. "I hope to give you the time to understand me fully." There, she had said it.

Edward though had not caught the meaning behind such words. To him – she was just being difficult again. To her though – she had just admitted that she wished to see him frequently in the future.

The music came to an end and the two stopped in front of the other. As they had danced, it was almost as if everyone else had disappeared – so focused each other the two of them were. Edward did not even realize that he had not glanced over at Jane once or made eye contact with the man on the other side of him. He had seen no one but _her_.

Frances was similarly affected - but while Edward was just further mystified after his dance with Miss Darcy – the young woman was decided. She could not get enough of this man, and while such a thought frustrated her, it was too hard to deny it anymore. Georgiana wanted her happy and that was all that really mattered. Her family's opinion was the last thing on her mind.

Naturally, they would be unhappy – especially her Aunt Matlock – but there was nothing to be done. Lady Catherine would certainly rejoice, for this would mean Richard would more than likely marry Anne, but even she would question her niece's judgment for choosing a man so far beneath her. The _ton_ would gossip about her relentlessly, but some other scandal would eventually capture their attention and take such censure away from her.

As Miss Darcy curtsied to Mr. Bennet, she resolved to pursue him.

Edward though was still frustrated with the young woman. Her words had been so cryptic. If there was one thing he hated, it was being outwitted.

With a stiff bow, the man took his leave of her without another word.

A few dances later, Edward was surprised when Bingley tapped him on the shoulder.

"Mr. Bennet!" Bingley exclaimed congenially. The young man's cheeks were red from his recent exertion and his hair was in disarray. If he was embarrassed about his appearance, he didn't show it – for he was too joyful over the turn out to his ball. "It is a lively party, is it not?"

Edward's smile matched his own. "Yes, it is! Certainly one of the liveliest our county has ever seen."

Bingley smiled a bit, nodding his head in agreement. "Caroline certainly outdid herself," He complimented his sister, giving her what was her due. He sobered slightly though when he looked over at her and noted the disapproving look on her face. When he followed her gaze, he realized she was staring pointedly at Jane – who was chatting amiably with another gentleman.

Edward noticed where the young man's gaze drifted. His eyes softened at his sister's serene countenance. He had rarely seen her so happy.

"She admires you," Edward assured Bingley, guessing what direction his thoughts were going in. "Jane rarely shares her feelings – but I know my sister. Nothing has changed since we last spoke on the subject."

Bingley gave him a small, hopeful smile. "So she does not find my company trying?"

Edward laughed at such a thought. "I have never seen her so excited in the morning than when you have promised to call."

"So you believe that to ask for a courtship at this point would not be forward?" Bingley inquired nervously. "I do not wish to force myself upon her if she does not feel the same for me."

At the young man's words, Edward could not keep the smile off his face. He knew that Bingley would fall for Jane, he was just glad that the man's good character and feelings had won out over his friend's and sisters' opinions. "I believe that she could not be happier to receive your addresses."

Bingley's smile grew exponentially. "I am so happy to hear you say that. I will not conceal it; I was beginning to doubt her feelings. It seems that all the females in my life said the signs were pointing at her not feeling the same as I."

Edward tried to look surprised at such information. "Perhaps if they endeavored to become more acquainted with her – they would know her character as I do."

Bingley gave him an apologetic look. "I know they are not the most welcoming of individuals – but they are only looking out for me. As a younger brother, I have always been seen as their charge rather than the other way around."

"And your friend?" Edward asked boldly, an eyebrow raised as his eyes drifted to the form of Miss Darcy. She was not dancing at this time, having turned down the offers of the other men who asked. A sour expression still rested on her countenance.

Bingley followed his gaze. "Darcy has also become an almost sibling of sorts. She had concerns about your connections. Just this morning, she came in ranting to me that I needed to leave for London the moment I suspected Miss Bennet's disinterest. She believes that your sister's interest stems solely from her desire to appease your mother."

Edward could barely contain his temper at such an accusation, even though he had heard the same from Miss Darcy that day at Netherfield. "I can guarantee that my sister would not compromise her happiness to satisfy my mother."

"Jolly good," Bingley's smile lit up his entire face. Realizing that he had spent too much time talking with Edward, rather than attending to his guests – he wished the young man a good night before joining the other men of the town in conversation. They tried to invite Edward into their discussion of irrigation methods, but he was in no humor to speak of crops at the moment.

He felt an amazing sense of relief to know that Bingley's affections had reigned supreme and that his sister's happiness was almost guaranteed. Edward could not help the smile that came to his features. Miss Darcy looked over at him from her place across the room and his grin caught her attention immediately. For Edward, he felt as though he was gloating – for Miss Darcy, she took it as a sign of affection.

Never had there been such great misunderstanding between two people. Frances recognized the sparkle in Edward's eye – the one he tended to have whenever he thought about his sister or anyone else he held dear – and believed it to be meant for her. _He was flirting with her!_

The room was hot from all the bodies that were trapped in it. While the dancing continued, Edward decided to make an escape to the balcony for some fresh air. Though he was miffed by what Bingley had told him that Miss Darcy said, he was surprisingly calm. There was a crisp breeze that seemed to cut through the fabric of his coat and cool the sweat from his brow – settling him immediately.

What he had not expected was that another had been seeking the same refuge he did.

Frances had seen him walk outside to the balcony. He had glanced at her just before he did and bestowed upon her one of the most affectionate smiles she had ever seen on his countenance. Had he been reserving that look for her? She did not know, but she assumed that he had. After all, he had asked her to dance several times before – a sign that he at least had some designs on her.

Deciding that she suddenly was in need of some air as well, she promptly followed him.

* * *

As Edward rested his hand on the balcony railing, he breathed in deeply. He was absolutely elated for Jane that she had found a man that would cherish her and bestow upon her all the wealth she deserved. The cool air also had an effect on his lingering uneasiness that his shared glance with Miss Darcy had brought forth in him.

His relief was not to last long as the woman herself made an appearance on the balcony.

He had thought that when she saw him leave for the balcony - she would do well not to follow him. She despised him, what reason would she have to seek him out?

"Miss Darcy," He turned to watch as she left the warmth of the ballroom, bathed in the glow of candlelight coming from indoors. There seemed to be an almost halo reflecting off her dark crown. Edward did not dwell on her beauty for long however, still miffed by her comments. "To what do I owe this pleasure?"

While her expression had been mild upon her exit, Edward noticed a distinct drop in her countenance. Suddenly she was as blank faced and disinterested as always.

"I was in need of some air," She responded flatly, joining him at the railing. At such a lackluster response, Edward decided not to comment.

They stood in silence for a few moments. Darcy could feel her heart pounding steadily in her chest due to the young man's proximity. She could see every detail of his much beloved features in the pale moonlight and she _knew_ she was lost – for such feelings could not be borne of so material an affection.

"Mr. Bingley has just told me that he plans on pursuing my sister," Edward shared, the quiet unsettling him greatly. He could not help the boastful tone that infused his voice at knowing this was exactly what the girl had not desired to hear.

"I had thought he meant to leave for town," Frances admitted quietly after a few seconds. She had been bent on influencing him to change his mind again now that she was settled in the possibility of receiving a proposal of courtship from Mr. Bennet – but it looked like Bingley had taken it upon himself to change his own plans.

She was elated at the possibility that now she could become closer with the Bennet heir. While she still questioned Jane's worth as the future Mrs. Bingley, she couldn't help but be relieved that Bingley had not listened to the poor advice she had given him that morning. While she believed she was acting for the good of her friend, it was possible she had not read the young lady's intentions correctly.

When Mrs. Bennet came to mind – she couldn't help but shiver. Now – that lady's intentions were quite clear – considering she had boasted them to all of Meryton that night while partaking in a little too much wine.

Edward saw the grimace on the young woman's face and instantly jumped to the defense of his sister. "I am fully aware that you are not happy with my family's connections - but I assure you that, should Mr. Bingley think nothing of them, they should mean nothing to you either."

Frances was taken aback by such a bold statement. "I do not believe I understand what I did to warrant such an accusation?"

Edward could not believe his ears. Surely she realized her overall demeanor and attitude spoke of such beliefs quite clearly without the need of words. However, he had heard her say as much before.

Not wanting to admit to eavesdropping, Edward continued. "It is no secret that you have disapproved of my sister since the start of her acquaintance with Mr. Bingley. You believe her mercenary and her lowly connections as reason enough to separate two lovers. Do you deny that you harbor such feelings?

"I did," Darcy admitted after a moment's hesitation.

Edward had heard enough. He turned his back to the night and began walking towards the doors leading back to the ballroom. As a naturally amiable and positive young man, such an argument had caused him greater discomfort than the crowded room ever did. The night air was no longer refreshing under Miss Darcy's dark gaze, but oppressing.

"I said I did, Mr. Bennet," Frances called after him – using a tone of voice that he was not familiar with in regards to her. She almost sounded tender. "However, upon further acquaintance I realized I could not disapprove of such a match when I was seeking one like it as well."

Edward was confused. He paused in his exit to turn back around – observing her features in the glow of the moon. There was a vulnerability there he had never seen before.

"What do you mean?"

She went quiet once again. He waited several moments for her to continue, but her face had once again become a steely mask of indifference. Noting this, he turned from her to continue on his way.

"Mr. Bennet, **in** vain have I struggled. It will not do. My feelings will not be repressed. You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you."

He had just been reaching for the door handle when the young woman – whom he had come to despise – did something that no one had ever been able to do. She shocked him into silence.

The quiet was stifling as the meaning behind her words soaked in. Edward could not quite believe what he had just heard. While he remained frozen in shock, Miss Darcy walked forward, confidently. If he had taken the chance to look down at her hands, he would have been able to see them trembling with anxiety.

"While I have fought valiantly against my principles, my family, and even my own better judgement," Frances spoke, trying hard not to allow her nerves to show in her speech. She stood in front of him, looking up at the confused expression upon his face. "I fear that nothing could dissuade me from the affection I feel for you. We are not of the same circle – however, I find myself willing to condescend at your offer of a courtship."

While Edward was still shocked at the turn the conversation had taken, he could not help the anger that welled up within him at the woman's haughty words. "You forget yourself, madam. I have not yet made any offer for you or your hand."

Now it was Darcy's turn to be confused. "But I was under the impression that all you waited for was for me to give indication of it's acceptance?"

Edward shook his head in disbelief before meeting her gaze head on. "Do you really think I would make an offer to the young lady who tried so desperately to separate my beloved sister from the man she loved?" Miss Darcy opened her mouth to speak, but the young man held up a hand to pause her in her endeavor. "Do not deny it Miss Darcy, for I have heard it for myself from both your lips and Mr. Bingley's."

"But how – ? "

"You were not exactly quiet about your disapproval of my sister during my stay at Netherfield," Edward quietly admitted, hating that he would have to incriminate himself in order to deliver his accusal. "Mr. Bingley asked you whether my sister having affections for him would ever make you approve of the match, but you stated that it would not."

Darcy was livid. Her anger won out over her embarrassment for the moment. "Did you expect me to rejoice in the inferiority of your or your sister's circumstances? An uncle in town in trade and you want me to be happy that we are both seeking affections from those who are so beneath us."

When Edward did not answer, the young lady continued. "It is not only your connections but the entire lack of propriety demonstrated by your family."

Mr. Bennet's mouth opened to defend he and his sister – however, Miss Darcy beat him to it. "You and your sister I must exlude from such commentary. Your mother and sisters and occasionally your father all exhibit such eccentricities though that would embarrass even the lowest of classes."

Edward stepped closer to her, his frame towering above her own. To hear such things in regards to his parents and sisters caused a wave of protectiveness to wash over him. While he harbored his own negative thoughts against his family, he would not allow anyone to unjustly accuse them of such behavior from so short an acquaintance. "And these are the words of a well bred young lady? A gentlewoman?"

Frances continued to stare up at him – her glare matching his own. There was such electricity in the air between them, much like there had always been, but this electricity felt different than before. While there had always been a certain amount of passion between them – rarely had they had the chance to test it out anywhere but in their dreams. This kind of passion was just of a different nature.

Ignoring such feelings, Edward took Frances' silence as acquiesce to his argument. "That is not my only argument against you – there is also the matter of Mr. Wickham."

The young lady nearly visibly shivered at the mention of his name. Determined to stand her ground, however – she refused to be affected. "What of him?"

"How could you have been so cruel to him?"

Darcy was again confused at the young man's words. "Me? I have done nothing to him that he did not deserve."

Edward nodded his head - having known that she could not deny what he knew was true. She had wronged Mr. Wickham.

"I do not believe anyone deserves to be jilted and denied a living simply because the heiress of said inheritance deems them as undeserving. Not only that but you took away his position as a soldier as well," Edward's voice was low, accusal evident in his tone. "What courtship could we possibly have after you have already taken such advantage of another man. My connections are much like his and I know you deem them unworthy. What kind of an affection can be built off that?"

Frances was stunned.

Edward took her silence and surprise as inability to defend her actions.

"I will admit that when we first met, I admired your beauty greatly," Edward told her, ready to end the conversation and return indoors for supper. "It was not long after however that I determined you were the last woman in the world whom I could ever be prevailed upon to marry. Perhaps I would have declined such advances with more civility had you acted in a more ladylike manner."

At such a cruel statement, Frances could feel tears welling up – blurring her vision. They did not fall though Edward turned from her after observing the crushed look on her face and opened the door to the ballroom.

While he was repeatedly telling himself that the young woman deserved such censure for the way she had acted, he could not get rid of the heaviness in his heart. His hands shook as he accepted a glass of wine from a passing waiter and he gulped it vigorously.

Should you have told him that morning after meeting Miss Darcy that she would approach him this afternoon and confess her love for him – he would have laughed. It had never even occurred to him that she harbored such feelings. She had always scowled at him and had turned down his offer to dance many times before. He also knew that she certainly did not find him attractive and thought his family was unfit to be seen. Where had her affection been born?

After taking several steadying breaths, Mr. Bennet felt like he finally had control over his emotions. He would not allow such an encounter to ruin his night.

Even after forming such a resolve – he found it difficult to get the picture of Miss Darcy's crestfallen face out of his thoughts.

* * *

All Frances felt was cold.

She was not sure if it was the breeze or the icy set down she had just received, but whatever it was caused her to shiver violently. It took her a moment to realize that her shivering was a product of the silent sobs that now racked her body.

 _How could she have been such a fool? How could she have displayed such vulnerability?_

Her anger at the young man was great, but it slowly dissipated into something else. Guilt.

While some of his accusations were grossly incorrect, there had been truth in several of his statements. She had tried to convince Bingley to leave Hertfordshire, in the hopes that he would escape such a lowly marriage. It was only this afternoon that she had begun to see things differently.

She had been rash for the first time in her life and was now regretting it.

While his accusations had been correct in her feelings against the eldest Miss Bennet – though she did have other reasoning behind disapproval for such a match – his words in regards to Wickham did not match up with the reality of the situation.

She could almost laugh at the fact that Wickham had turned the story around and incriminated her in his tale. She would have laughed had she not been so weary and heartbroken from what had just passed in the last hour.

It was then she looked to the heavens, the sky incredibly clear for a late November evening. Observing the stars that shined in the distance, Darcy began to wish more than anything that her mother was still around – for surely she would know what to do in a situation such as this. Knowing this was a futile thing to wish, Frances shook such thoughts from her head.

How she would proceed from here – she did not know. The thought of ever seeing Mr. Bennet again, terrified her – now that she knew he harbored such disapproval against her. Never had the approbation of another affected her so greatly. What was it about this lowly country gentleman that had caused her to act in such a way? She did not know.

Her heart whispered that perhaps it was her want for liveliness. She had always been shy, even in childhood. Once Georgiana was around, her father took it upon himself to prepare her one day for the running of the estate. While many of his friends had disapproved – insisting that any young woman inheriting an estate would allow a competent steward to make the decisions regarding the lands – Mr. Darcy had pressed on with his lessons. This in turn had caused her childhood to come to a most surprising end, the idea of running an estate heavy on her mind.

In Mr. Bennet, she had seen a young man who was unbothered by his responsibility. It was not that he didn't care about what would be his sometime in the future – but that he had confidence in himself to cross that bridge whenever he got to it. He did not allow such things to weigh him down day to day. He lived every moment in vivid color while she preferred to live it all in black and white.

He was also perfect for her intellectually. Or at least – she thought he was.

She was surprised to find how deeply his rejection had hurt her. Though she had not been settled long on the idea of him being her companion in life – she had already thought of several scenarios that would now never get to be played out. She had wanted to share Pemberley with him and to talk about new ways they could improve their yield come the harvest. She had wanted to be on his arm at the theatre to listen to his witty anecdotes as they halfway paid attention to the drama being acted out on stage.

She wanted to live out her dreams of being in his arms – but her wishes were for nothing. Not even her wealth could convince him to court her. He had been very clear that no kind of inducement would improve his opinion of her. She was the _worst_ woman of his acquaintance.

Frances heard the music inside pause and the voices of many rising over the clapping of the crowd. Supper was upon them and through the foggy window – she could see everyone filing out of the ballroom and into the dining room.

Wiping her tears, Darcy determined that she could not spend a moment more in the company of others. She needed to get to her room discreetly and now seemed to be a good a time as any.

Waiting for the conversations to die off as the servers placed their plates in front of them, Darcy peered into the ballroom to see if only the band occupied the space. While there were a few servants cleaning several tables and refilling wine glasses, the room seemed to be empty. Seeing this, Frances closed the door softly behind her and trekked towards the stairs in the front hall.

She had been too scared to meet the faces of the servants, for if she had she would have noted the surprise clearly evident on their features. Since her arrival, Miss Darcy had been stoic – while very polite – and never seemed to get her feathers ruffled over anything. Seeing such distress on so steady a person was a great shock to all and they murmured quietly later on that it must portend some bad news that they may get in the future.

Darcy was able to make it to her room without seeing any guests. Many a footman turned as she passed by, but she paid them little mind. She was not fit to be seen by anyone.

She entered through her dressing room and startled Sarah who was setting out her nightgown.

"Mum?" She questioned, a hand to her heart in a fright from her sudden entrance. Once she took in her mistress' disheveled appearance, she was rushing across the room towards her. "What has discomposed you so?"

Frances squared her shoulders, her pride winning out over her hurt. "I have just decided I can no longer be in company for the evening. Can you ready a bath? I know I took one earlier, but I feel I desperately need another."

Sarah hesitated at her mistress' reply, but curtsied as she followed her orders.

After the water had been brought up, the young woman climbed into her bath. The tension in her muscles eased as she reclined against the cool back of the copper tub. She dismissed Sarah with the promise to call for her when she was ready to be attended.

It was only after the lady's maid had left the room – that she allowed herself a proper cry.


End file.
